Opening Up
by pomatterpie
Summary: When Shelby Corcoran's former student gives her tickets to see the Broadway revival of "Funny Girl," she finds herself inexplicably drawn to the show's newest star and face to face with a part of her she's lost long ago. Set over the course of Rachel's opening week on Broadway. Seven-Parts. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Monday_

A crawling, weary exhalation of breath puffed from Shelby's lungs as she walked into her expansive walk in closet, completely ignoring the left side as she dressed. The last thing she wanted was to change, to leave, or to be disrupted. She would much rather stay in tonight and rest as the chronic lack of sleep seemed to be wearing her down more than usual. She also treasured her solitude since she's had plenty of it these days. During the past six months, two weeks, and three days, to be exact. Apart from work, and the week she spent in Ohio with her parents for a change of scenery, she rarely left her home anymore.

But Jesse St. James was her favorite student. He was her protege, her best work. And really the closest thing she had to a child of her own at this point. He was one of the few people that Shelby would leave her house for to show up and support on the biggest night of his nascent career.

A recent graduate of New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, he was making his debut as the currently youngest music director on Broadway. He'd come up a long way from being just a struggling kid from Queens to rising on the path of becoming one of the most promising lyricists and composers in musical theater.

He was the embodiment of everything that she's strived to achieve in her role as the Principal of the Manhattan High School of Music & Performing Arts. Jesse set foot in her school with essentially nothing but the shirt off his back, challenged himself, took every advantage of the finest pre-conservatory studio training and rigorous college preparatory coursework, ran with it and never looked back. He was the type of success story that helped fuel her work to recruit, teach, and nurture some of the most talented young artists in the country. He was the consummate example of why she loved her job.

Bending down slightly, she slipped on a pair of black Louboutin pigalle pumps then stood up to her full height to examine herself in the mirror. She used to love dressing up for the theater. She, specifically, enjoyed shopping for nights on Broadway with him. But ever since the accident, she hasn't set foot anywhere near 42nd street in more than six months. She hasn't felt the need to indulge in her passions or bring herself to enjoy anything really, at least not without him.

Her favorite and usually flattering form-fitting deep purple dress seemed to sag on her increasingly slimming body. Staring at her reflection critically, she took in the prominent, dark shadows under her dim emerald green eyes and the unmistakable fatigue marked all over the sharp, angular features of her face and sighed. Even with an already applied light touch of makeup, she was barely scratching the surface at attempting to hide her weariness. Not that she cared. She didn't have the energy to care much about anything recently.

She shut the light and made her way down to the ground floor of the town house. At three stories, four bedrooms, and three bathrooms, it really was too much space. After they got married, she wanted the reasonable two-bedroom apartment in Midtown that was a fifteen minute walk away from the high school and two subway stops down from his office. But Michael had insisted. And he sweet talked, and persuaded, and convinced her in the way that only he was able to. So for eight, blissful, years, they made a home out of the original 1901 brownstone in the historic Park Slope neighborhood across the bridge. He'd made a Brooklyn girl out of her, and got a kick out of constantly reminding her of that.

The more than two thousand square feet was more than they had ever needed. They'd fill it with kids, a family, Michael always maintained. And the day after they found out they couldn't, he'd brought home a dog: a puppy that he demanded they name Bug in honor of the first time they met when Michael liked to boast he rescued her from an unwanted spider that crawled upon her book during one of her afternoon reading sessions in Washington Square Park.

"Hi there, Bug," Shelby greeted the easy-going German Shepherd that met her at the foot of the stairs with affectionate pats. At nearly ninety pounds, Bug was now obviously a misnomer for the rather large canine. "I have to run out for a bit but Giselle is going to hang out with you tonight and I'll be back home soon."

"Hey Principal C, thanks again for letting me use your equipment to record my audition tape tonight."

"Anytime, Gieselle. Thank you for agreeing to watch Bug for me in return," Shelby said, standing back up to address the high school student. "I should be home right after the show, so I'll be back a little after ten. You know your way around, so please feel free to eat anything in the kitchen and make yourself comfortable."

"Cool, thanks. You're going to the opening of _Funny_ _Girl_, right? Everyone at school's been talking about it because of Jesse."

"That's right," Shelby confirmed as she fished a jacket and her purse out of the coat closet. "He is actually the one who gave me tickets."

"That's awesome. I heard he's just doing this while he continues to work on original stuff. But it's also incredible that he gets to work on this production at all. I also heard they did auditions at NYADA and they found a _freshman_ to play their Fanny, which means that the lead is only a couple years older than I am. This is why I _have_ to get into NYADA."

With her long, dark hair, strong features, excitable nature, and long windedness, Michael had always been fond of saying that Giselle could be her daughter if it weren't for the fact that they lived next door to her and her biological parents. Shelby managed a smile for her neighbor turned student. "You'll be great on the tape and you'll also be great with or without NYADA. I would know. I did train you after all."

"Thanks!" Giselle beamed. "It's amazing that you're going to opening night. Who are you going with? Are you watching it alone? I know you and Mr. C used to… oh sorry," the girl balked at the train of thought and looked down sheepishly. "I… uh… I really am sorry for your loss. I liked Mr. C. A lot. He always treated me like I was an adult, and he always listened to me and gave me good advice. Did you know that he was the one who convinced my dad to let me audition for MHSMPA? Anyway sorry, but I have been meaning to tell you that I'm sad he's gone and that I hope you're doing okay. We also miss you at school."

Shelby swallowed back against the unpleasant feeling rising in her throat and nodded politely at the girl's clumsy yet heartfelt condolences. "Thanks, Giselle. I appreciate that. I know Michael was fond of you as well."

"Well I hope you have fun tonight anyway," Giselle said, crouching down to pet the listless dog. "Bug and I will try to hold down the fort for ya."

Shelby hesitated at the doorway. All she wanted to do was shed her coat, grab her dog, and spend the night cuddling with him instead. He had been both equally more reserved and clingy since Michael's death, and she had spent the better part of the day earlier researching how dogs grieved from human loss. She learned that following acute loss of a closely bonded owner, dogs could suffer the pangs of separation anxiety or depression just as people do and that the extent of the suffering was directly proportional to the strength of the bond with the owner. And Michael, who had, despite his extremely busy schedule, made sure to take their pet on morning and evening walks and Sunday trips to the dog park religiously had definitely fed into the German Shepherd's dependency. But she knew that she wouldn't be helping Bug or herself if she indulged him now. They both needed to begin to take the small steps to move on, even if it meant something as minuscule as spending a few hours of their evening apart.

Deciding firmly against staying, she backed away and bid another goodbye. She opened the door and walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk. It was a balmy Spring evening in mid-April but she still tucked the coat tighter around herself protectively.

Despite the weather or the lateness of the hour, she had always enjoyed walking around the city. It was an almost two-decade long habit that she adopted when she first moved from her small town life in central Ohio. It was only when she and Michael started dating that he began to gently bully her into taking taxis or hopping on the train. And whenever they were together, even when they were heading off to different places, he made a habit of walking her to her train station or hailing a cab for her first before he went off to his own destination.

The profound swell of emotion that Shelby experienced when she flagged down her own taxi to go downtown by herself for the first time in months stung more than she expected. She dropped her arm to her side in resignation after a few cabs jetted past her and decided she'd just walk a little bit further down the block first before trying again. After all, now that her husband was gone, there was no one to talk her out of walking again.

* * *

Shelby arrived at the theater with exactly eight minutes to spare before the hour. She had pushed past through the throng of people gathered in the lobby and made her way to the second floor in almost record speed. Despite her haste, she'd recognized some familiar faces from the musical theater community, patrons and supporters of her school, the usual art lot, and she had politely smiled when she made eye contact.

In the past, she would've stopped and chatted, performed the rounds dutifully, but it was already taking everything she had just to be there. And if she were being honest, she was purposefully trying to avoid the pitying looks and the meaningless consolations from those who vaguely knew her or Michael. She wasn't here for anyone else but Jesse and wanted to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

Once she arrived at her designated spot, she deflated like a balloon into her chair, thankful that Jesse had given her an aisle seat in the third row of the dress circle instead of being thrown amongst the mass on the ground floor. She looked around the smaller group of people in her section, relieved that she didn't see anyone she recognized. Allowing herself to relax, she finally reclined and began to study the Playbill in her hands.

She thumbed past the first few pages and turned to the biographies, skipping the cast bios for now, and going directly to the creative team, an intense form of pride washing over her when she finally spotted Jesse's handsome and professional headshot.

_JESSE ST. JAMES (Music Director) is grateful to join this company as the music director and conductor of Funny Girl. A graduate of NYADA and MHSMPA, Jesse is a performer and an aspiring composer and lyricist. He thanks his mom Sarah and "the greatest teacher" Shelby Corcoran for their endless support. _

Shelby's mouth twisted into a smile, the first genuine one she's worn in weeks, at the acknowledgement in print. She wasn't expecting it but she was quite touched by the credit. After almost sixteen years of working at the performing arts high school; starting as a teacher then becoming the principal, it wasn't the first time that she had received a thank you note in a program, but this one meant more to her than others.

Jesse's freshman class was the first cohort that she was the principal for. When she met him, it was her first year leading the school and in came this mop-topped teenager with an amazing amount of talent and no aim. No goal. It was also how she viewed the school when she took over. But from the very first day, she pushed him and everyone else in that building and never accepted anything less than their best. Never accepted their best either. Throughout the next four years, she had made him and MHSMPA fight, battle, and crawl their way to the top. His success ran parallel to the school's success, _her_ success. Jesse would always be special to her because he was tangible proof of all of her hard work, a direct result of every part of her that she's poured into her job.

Tuning out the fellow theatergoers around her, she continued to read through the rest of the creative crew, genuinely impressed with the team they had put together. As she flipped the page back to cast, the lights flashed signaling everyone to take their seats. She closed the Playbill in response and made herself comfortable to take in the first act.

While she loved the iconic musical and loved Barbra even more, she had little to zero expectations for the revival. She hadn't heard any of the pre-Broadway buzz. All she knew was that they'd gone with relatively unknown actors to fill their cast. And she couldn't begin to wonder why because nothing would beat the original company or production in her mind.

But ten minutes in and halfway through "I'm The Greatest Star," Shelby found her answer. The lead playing Fanny Brice was... _incredible_. And Shelby wasn't mincing her assessment. She'd seen a lot of inherently talented performers of all ages throughout the years. It was her job to find the best of the best. But from the very first note the young actress sang, Shelby had determined she was something special.

Her voice was gigantic, commanding, and it _belonged_ on that Broadway stage surrounded by lights. When she looked closely, she was also blown away by how beautiful the girl was too. Shelby couldn't take her eyes off her. She was fixated. Enthralled. Her draw was inexplicable to the woman and she felt a wave of a completely unknown emotion crash through her watching the new star sing around the stage as if it was the very last thing she'd do.

The girl's face flushed with the effort she put into her performance and her chest rose with each huge inhalation as she sang, the technical precision quite apparent to Shelby's musically trained ears. The actress was flawless and knew how to make use of every inch of her lung capacity and thread her breaths through her diaphragm to produce the purest of sounds and the longest of notes.

As the opening ended, Shelby still couldn't quite believe what her eyes and ears just experienced. She had never heard a voice so captivating live. She had never seen pure, unadulterated raw talent explode like this before her very eyes. The girl was a supernova and Shelby was defenseless against the blast. She was blinded.

Reluctant to peel her eyes away from the stage, she dug her Playbill out of her purse where she'd just relegated it. She needed to know who the unknown talent was. She flipped through hurriedly until she found her.

And then Shelby just knew.

_RACHEL BERRY (Fanny Brice) is beyond thrilled and gratified to be making her Broadway debut! Two-time National High School Show Choir champion. NYADA student. She sends all the love in the world to her fathers Hiram and LeRoy and a special thank you to Mr. Schue and her friends from Lima for helping her dreams come true! _

Berry. Hiram. LeRoy. Lima.

_Rachel_.

Her daughter.

Shelby lifted her gaze back up at the stage, having already missed half of the next scene, and finally _saw _it. It was disconcertingly clear. It couldn't be real, but the closer she looked, the similarities were there. The dark, brunette hair, the wide shining eyes, the prominent cheekbones, the slim and petite frame. She was very nearly Shelby's clone. She was hers. The beautiful baby girl she had given up almost twenty years ago.

Continuing to watch the stage as if nothing else would ever be important again, her heart began to beat irregularly, going overboard and wrenching with pain and happiness at the same time.

Rachel wasn't just acting or singing up on that stage, she was _living_ her performance, effectively displaying the spades of talent that she possessed. And if Shelby thought she was proud of Jesse earlier, she couldn't even comprehend the level of pride she felt now.

She had to meet her.

* * *

At the close of the curtain at intermission, Shelby practically flew out of her seat. Forgoing all the class and grace she usually carried herself with, she hustled down to the ground floor, almost tripping down the stairs in the process to follow her hunch. If it was her one and only child's opening night on Broadway, she'd be sitting in or the closest to the front row and center stage as possible.

And if Hiram and LeRoy were the dads that Shelby always believed they would be, they'd be right where she expected them to be. She milled around anxiously and watched those with Orchestra seats spill out into the lobby, scanning her eyes expertly across the crowd.

After an entire minute, her eyes zeroed in on only one of the figures she'd been waiting for. _Now_ she had confirmation. Rachel was truly hers.

Her breath automatically caught in her throat as LeRoy's gaze unexpectedly locked with hers through the sea of people, recognition spreading across his face almost instantaneously. Rendered frozen, she only blinked once before he was in front of her. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him, tall, handsome, warm, and she fleetingly wondered if he would think the same of her.

"Shelby," LeRoy breathed out incredulously, shaking his head as if he were making her up in his mind. "You're here."

"_You're_ here," Shelby replied in equal disbelief, the world around them fading into the background. "She's here."

"Yes, Rachel. That's… that's her name. She's… wow, Shelby," LeRoy stumbled over his words as he fought back his surprise. "Hiram and I, we were _just_ talking about you. We've been looking for you. And it wasn't until we came across and read that _New York Magazine _article on you and the performing arts academy you run the other day that we realized that you'd changed your last name. We called the school literally just yesterday to tell you about tonight and they said you were on leave and weren't taking messages. You look… wow. You're here."

Before Shelby could formulate a response, LeRoy erased the distance between them and drew her in for an abrupt albeit comforting hug. She brought her arms up to accept the embrace, feeling her heart fill with something other than grief for the first time in nearly half a year.

"We also heard about your husband," LeRoy said softly, tightening his hold of the woman he owed everything to. "I'm so sorry, Shelbs. I hope you're doing alright."

Shelby didn't exactly know what's shifted inside of her from her conversation with Giselle at the beginning of the night to now, but something definitely had. Because this time, LeRoy's sincere condolences, despite the many years between them, were a balm on her wound instead of salt.

"You're here," LeRoy repeated.

"I'm here," Shelby nodded. "And Rachel's here."


	2. Chapter 2

_Tuesday_

The jarring sound of the alarm woke Shelby up at precisely six o'clock in the morning. Out of a habit she couldn't seem to break, she reached across the silk sheets for her husband, her heart constricting awfully painfully when her hand grasped the empty spot on the large king-sized bed.

She opened her eyes warily to nothing but darkness and promptly untangled her limbs from the covers. She never stayed in bed alone any longer than she had to these days.

She also had plans to meet up with Hiram and LeRoy in exactly two hours, which was not nearly enough time for her to organize her thoughts or gather her courage to face the fathers she was once a surrogate for, to face the men she had given a baby, _her_ baby, to more than nineteen years ago now.

* * *

It was the summer after she graduated college when she first met the Berry men. She was working as a paralegal at a law firm in the city of Lima, next to her own, small, unremarkable hometown in central Ohio. It was one of the three and a half jobs she had back then if she also counted the singing and piano lessons she gave every other week.

Although she was fortunate enough to have received a scholarship to attend a liberal arts college in Massachusetts, she had aspirations to go to New York. And that meant needing money that she and her parents didn't have. She figured she could work first to save enough and then move to the city. She wanted to be on Broadway. She dreamed of being a star. She knew she had the talent, she just needed the means to get there.

But life and reality and her inability to ask her mother and father for help made that difficult. While at the end of the day, she loved her parents and they had done their best to provide her with a good childhood, they were somewhat distant and never quite understood her passion for music or the arts. They were both children of steel plant workers who had grown up to be a secretary and policeman respectively. They wanted their daughter to follow their lead and settle for the security and the stability that came with a proper middle class job. But Shelby always dreamt of more. She had always _desired_ more, craved it.

She inadvertently formed a relationship with Hiram and LeRoy Berry while she worked in the family law offices in Lima. She didn't have any genuine interest in the legal field, but it was by far the best paying job she had found. She worked nearly forty hours Monday through Friday at the law firm performing administrative duties and helping all the husbands and wives, parents and children that walked through the doors. Hiram and LeRoy came in periodically throughout that summer and the following fall to meet with potential surrogates. They were trying to build a family. They wanted a baby.

The first woman they met with agreed but changed her mind right before they could begin the first round of IVF. The second woman dragged out her decision for more than a month before ultimately turning them down. The third woman only scheduled an appointment with them face-to-face in order to tell them how wrong it was for two gay men to raise a baby. And the fourth woman finally accepted their deal, had gotten pregnant, but then walked away after the first doctor's appointment.

Shelby had a front row seat to the roller coaster of emotions that the aspiring fathers experienced from the hopeful and rose-colored highs to the gut wrenching and disappointing lows. Throughout the entire process, she watched the rejection and the setbacks, one after the other, slowly wear them down. She couldn't avoid the palpable heartbreak that followed every time their attempt to have a child of their own fell through. And Shelby truly felt for them each and every single time.

She had gotten to know Hiram and LeRoy casually throughout their visits. They always struck up conversation and had taken a liking and an interest with her and always listened attentively when she spoke about her passion for musical theater. LeRoy even got her yet another side gig performing for patients at the hospital where he worked. As a doctor and a lawyer, they were respected and established. They had every means to raise a child. The willingness. They were good and kind men. On paper, there was no reason for them not to have a baby of their own.

It was a harsh and bitter cold day in late January when her life was permanently intertwined with the Berrys. Her boss had instructed her to bring a space heater to the back conference room in preparation for an expected lengthy deposition later that afternoon. Hiram and LeRoy had just finished up another meeting with the partner on their case to go over adoption options when she walked in. Through it all, she had also seen the Berry men remain strong and watched them channel all the patience and determination in the world to fulfill their dreams of being fathers. She was in awe at their ability to come back in after every obstacle with their heads held high and a smile plastered on their faces. But when Shelby interrupted the moment of privacy between the husbands, all she saw, when the masks fell away, was the honest and unveiled pain for the first time in months. The sight of the two men wrapped up in all the hurt, clinging to one another in a fierce embrace and both crying broken tears automatically compelled her to help.

Before she had time to truly process it, she was going to doctor's appointments, fighting with her parents, signing a contract, carrying a baby inside of her. She had felt a slight twinge when she heard the fetal heartbeat, then again when the baby first kicked, and also when she learned it was a girl, but it was always assuaged by her belief that her child would be going to a loving home. That she was helping two men who deserved it become fathers, who were also helping her in return to pursue her New York dreams by offering her a handsome amount of money to be their surrogate.

And all she had to do was agree to a contract stipulating that she would have no contact with the child until it reached legal age, agree to give them their distance to raise the child on their own. After seeing them get burned in the past, she understood the need for the protection and she had no qualms signing it then. She thought it would be fine.

She'd been wrong.

It was only when the baby was born and she didn't even get a chance to hold her was when Shelby truly realized what she had given up. And while she wholly believed that Hiram and LeRoy would go on to love and cherish their child unconditionally, she still couldn't shake the fact that she had given up a baby girl with half of her DNA just like that. And with a promise and a contract in place, she was left with no choice but just to live with it.

She still went to New York as planned, but while she landed a few off-Broadway roles, she hadn't made it big like she wanted to. Her focus and her drive had been all over the place when she first got to the city. It later took perspective and years away from that situation for her to realize that she never got it together enough to be successful as an actress because she was still reeling from all of the unexpected and unresolved emotions she had regarding the surrogacy. She was still hurting and learning how to survive the complicated reality of giving up her daughter and not even knowing what her name was, or what she looked like, and what she was like.

It took a career change and a relationship to help her heal. It took finding her purpose at the Manhattan High School of Music & Performing Arts for her to push through. It took meeting Michael for her to piece her heart back together. It took building a life and a home away from Lima and away from her daughter and all the success and the love that eventually filled it for her to move on and go forward.

She figured that she would just wait until her daughter was eighteen and then she'd seek her out. Rather than disrupt the childhood she'd promised Hiram and LeRoy, she resolved to be patient and decided to forge a proper relationship with her daughter when the time was right.

That was her plan. _Their_ plan, Michael had corrected her when she first told him about the Berrys and the surrogacy. It just never included her being a widow at forty three. It didn't consist of the world and the life she'd worked meticulously to build to crumble underneath her without a single warning before she could actually follow through with it.

She never anticipated returning to feeling as lost and as confused as she was all those years ago. She didn't account for the need to re-learn how to move on again, how to go forward again.

She didn't _plan_ to wake up alone in the bed that she once shared with her husband and having to force herself every morning to face the harsh reality of another day. At first without her. And now without him.

* * *

It took Shelby almost forty five minutes to get to the restaurant near the Berry's hotel. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she walked eight blocks before she realized that she was running late and hopped in a cab.

Nervous was an understatement to describe how she currently felt. Even Bug must've picked up on her nerves since he also refused to eat or even go outside for his morning walk. He'd also been clingy and anxious right before she left, so she made a mental note to call the vet and ask for proper ways to help him cope. They both couldn't go on like this.

Apart from exchanging contact information and plans to meet the next morning for breakfast, she and LeRoy didn't delve much into what's transpired in their lives over the last twenty years. The lobby of the Lyric Theatre was hardly the place to discuss the daughter she hasn't seen since the day she was born. She also turned down his offer to introduce her to Rachel after the show and she practically sprinted home before she could change her mind.

She wasn't prepared.

Truthfully, with the exception of shock, she still hasn't registered any other emotion. But she knew that meeting with the Berrys would be a good place to start. She owed it to them. Seeing LeRoy yesterday triggered the long buried memories of the two men who had held her hand throughout the entire pregnancy, who doted and cared for her, and who were always concerned about her own wellbeing as well as the baby's. She hasn't seen or heard from them in nineteen years and four months now. They all agreed to cease contact. All she knew, from a mutual friend from the law firm, was that Hiram and LeRoy had moved to Columbus soon after the baby was born. Shelby was told that they wanted a fresh start. That's where she thought her daughter was the entire time. That's where she had always pictured her. Not in back in Lima. Or in New York. Or on Broadway.

Walking into the restaurant, it took her only a few seconds to spot LeRoy at a corner table by the window. On accident, he glanced over at the door and also caught sight of her. His gaze caused Shelby to unstick her feet from the floor and she crossed the room to join him. Ever the gentleman, he rose from his chair as she approached. "Good morning," Shelby greeted, a fond smile pulling at her lips despite the nerves that were coursing freely through her veins. "No Hiram today?"

"Shelby, good morning," LeRoy returned the greeting, pulling her into another hug. "No. He had a meeting to go to. We're in town for Rachel's opening this week but he also ended up having a business conference to attend. He sends his regards and his apologies for not being able to join us. But maybe the three, or even the four of us, could get together later this week? We'll be in until Sunday."

Shelby nodded her head noncommittally as she settled into the chair opposite him. "I'll have to check my schedule, but I would like to see him as well. It's been so long."

"I know," LeRoy also nodded his agreement before pushing a steaming cup of coffee towards her. "Oh I forgot. I ordered you a cappuccino. That's what you always drank at work, if I remembered correctly. With soy milk, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Shelby grinned easily. Her soy cappuccino had been a daily ritual for as long she could remember. She'd been on a search for the best one in New York City since she'd moved, but she hasn't paid for one in years; it was a habit of Michael's to buy it for her. "Thank you."

"Of course," LeRoy shrugged. For the mother of his child, it was the least he could do. "You look great, Shelby. Beautiful as ever."

"You look great as well. How have you been?" She asked, a part of her genuinely curious while the other part was still trying to figure out how to broach the topic they had both come here to discuss.

"Great. We just celebrated the ten year anniversary of my own practice in Lima. Hiram also just made senior partner at his firm," he said proudly, more willing to boast his husband's accomplishments than his own. "And Rachel's… well, you saw last night. She's doing amazing. I still can't believe you went. Did you know? Is that why you were at the show?"

"No," Shelby shook her head as she stirred the spoon through the foam. "I had no idea. I didn't even know who she was when she first started performing. I only realized it after reading the Playbill. A former student of mine is in the play. He's the music director."

"Oh I see," LeRoy hummed thoughtfully. "That's… extremely serendipitous then. Well, regardless, I'm _really_ glad you had a chance see her on opening night. She's—did you notice she looks just like you?"

"Maybe a little. But she is beautiful and she's also… incredibly talented," Shelby struggled to find the words to describe her amazement with her daughter. "She was mesmerizing."

"You know she gets all of that from you?" The man pointed out with a smirk. "Hiram and I can't carry a tune to save our lives. But Rachel's talent. That's _all_ you, Shelbs."

Shelby flushed red and dropped her gaze to the table, unprepared for that comparison. "I don't know. I never made it big. I did make it on to a couple off-Broadway shows, but none of them ever went further than that and my career never really picked up like I always thought it would," she admitted with a shrug. "Rachel's already ahead of me by leaps and bounds. She's the one who's talented."

"I'm sorry," LeRoy said sincerely. He had known how badly the young woman wanted the life of a Broadway star back then. Badly enough to agree to be a surrogate, to give birth to a beautiful baby girl, and to walk away, all for the chance to pursue her dreams. "I know how much you really wanted it. But Shelby, it seems like to me that you've done very well for yourself. I told you I read that _New York Magazine_ feature on MHSMPA? You run _the_ premiere performing arts high school in the country, which the reporter alluded to is only successful by your design. I would also consider that making it _big_. And you worked for the President for two years?"

Shelby turned an even deeper shade of crimson at that remark. "No, I went to DC to work as the Director of the National Art Education Association a few years ago. I lobbied on the hill to advocate for equity and access for all students and then was asked to be on the White House's advisory committee on arts education. I—it was no big deal. I just wanted to do my part as a teacher."

"Well, I think that's remarkable," LeRoy acknowledged, admiration coloring his expression for the young woman from nowhere, Ohio who had gone on to make a name for herself. "Rachel was in the glee club all throughout high school and the show choir was always in danger of being cut due to a lack of support and funding. I think she'd appreciate your line of work."

"Does she know? About me?"

"No," LeRoy smiled sadly. "We didn't tell her that I ran into you last night. I figured it'd be better to talk to you first. But she… Rachel does know _of _you. She knows we had her through a surrogate and that you signed a contract. She knows of your kindness and of your selflessness to help us start our family. She just never really asked beyond that."

"Oh."

"Until recently," LeRoy added, placing his hand over Shelby's arm. "And she told us that she had always wanted to ask, but never felt like she could because she didn't want to hurt our feelings. That was last year. We've been looking for you. Not extensively or anything, but we did ask around Lima a bit and even went to your parent's house a couple months ago? They wouldn't tell us anything except that you were still working in New York and vaguely that you had gotten married. They didn't tell you that we came around?"

"No. They didn't mention it at all," Shelby said. There was no hint of surprise in her tone. Her parents had been crystal clear about their discontent with her decision to be a surrogate for the Berrys. They had reminded her as much of their disappointment almost every single time she picked up the phone to call them or got on a plane to visit. Even when she went back home recently to get some reprieve from the city, they had still managed to bring her down further while she was already at her lowest. That somehow it was her fault that she was essentially all alone again. That if she hadn't given her daughter up so easily, she wouldn't have had to do it all herself.

"You must remember, they weren't exactly the biggest fans of the surrogacy," she cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"Yes, I recall," LeRoy mused with sincere regret in his voice and in his eyes. He had always felt badly about causing an unintentional rift in between the woman and her parents. He and Hiram had checked, and triple checked, with Shelby that she was okay with what she was signing up for despite her family's disapproval. And while she had always insisted she was, it didn't diminish the guilt he and his husband felt over it. This was also another reason why he felt like he owed Shelby Corcoran the world.

"I'm sorry that they weren't helpful, though," Shelby offered, but desperately needed to change the subject. "I've also been off the grid for the past few months, so that may have had something to do with you having difficulty reaching me."

LeRoy pursed his lips in a worried frown at the topic this was leading to. "I really am sorry again for your loss, Shelby. Hiram told me that he had never met Michael but knew of other people who had and that they always spoke very highly of him."

Something akin to confusion crossed her face but she quickly put the puzzle pieces together. "Oh, right. Hiram works in real estate law."

"And you married Michael Corcoran, right? ...Of the Corcoran Property Group?"

Shelby only nodded timidly in response. After being with Michael for more than a dozen years, engaged for two, married for eight, she still never got used to the esteem that followed her husband and his family who owned one of the most diversified real estate portfolios in the country. She didn't even realize that Michael was well off until he took her home to meet his parents in Greenwich and brought her into his house that was twice the size of her grade school back in Ohio. Regardless, the fact that Michael was being groomed and in line to inherit his family's multi-million property development company was never the focal point of their relationship. The wealth was never a part their story.

And while she was initially worried that they would never accept a small town girl for their son, the Corcorans had welcomed her into their family with surprisingly open arms. Michael's parents and younger sister had grown to love her unconditionally in the way that her own parents were never able to. And she completely returned the affection. However she had kept her distance recently, not knowing what her place was in their family now that Michael was gone. If she still had one at all.

"Did your husband know about Rachel?"

Rachel. Rachel was the reason why she was here. She pushed away thoughts of her past and focused. "Yes, he did know about her. I—_we_—always talked about looking for her when she turned eighteen to try to form a relationship with her then."

"And now?" LeRoy questioned. "Do you still want to?"

"Of course I want to know Rachel," Shelby replied, ignoring the way her stomach twisted into an even tighter knot. "She's my daughter."

"She is," the older man agreed cautiously, stopping before drawing in a deep and generous breath. "Shelby, listen. I know when we asked you to sign the contract that we asked for the distance. We asked for you to allow us the chance to be parents. And you've more than given us that. You have—throughout this whole thing, you've been truly wonderful. You've respected what we've needed. But Hiram and I talked and Rachel's an adult now. If she wants to get to know you and if you want to get to know her, then we won't get in the way of that. Especially because the two of you live in the same city, if it's what you both want, then we'll support it. Fully. It's what you deserve, Shelby. The contract no longer applies. The door is wide open."

"Thanks, LeRoy. But I, uh… Rachel she..." Shelby frowned as she struggled to order her thoughts into grammatical sense.

Picking up on the woman's internal debate, he flashed her a reassuring smile. "I know she's not a little girl anymore, but Rachel's in a delicate place in her life right now. She still has a lot of learning to do, a lot of growing up. And I, personally, think that she could use a strong, female role model like you in her life. You've been where she is right now in this city. You could help her, look out for her. She could use the guidance. She could use… a mom."

While Shelby understood where the father was coming from, she still had miles to go to convince herself that the young lady she saw _owning_ the Broadway stage twelve hours ago needed a mother figure in her life. What if LeRoy was wrong and she was just being selfish? Sure, she wanted a relationship with her daughter. She always had. But what if all she was doing was foisting all of her needs and longing onto the young woman, who was clearly doing just fine without her. Thriving, in fact. The last thing Shelby wanted to do was insert herself into the girl's life when things seemed to be going so well for her. The pressure of a Broadway debut was also enough reason for her to stay away. Shelby didn't want to provide Rachel with the added stress of having to figure out a relationship with the woman who had given her up as a child. Besides, what did she really have to offer? Especially with the current state of her life. She was barely hanging on. She was hardly in the right place to reunite with her nineteen year old daughter. It wouldn't be fair. Rachel deserved more than what little she felt like she could give her at the moment. As much she might want in her life, the one thing that she wanted more was for her daughter to be happy. Even if that didn't include her.

"Can I think about it?" Shelby finally decided. "I just, I don't know. This is a lot. And I appreciate the offer. I do. I love Rachel," the woman nodded adamantly. "I have always loved her. And I've always dreamed of knowing her. But I… I'm not in the proper headspace right now and I want to make sure that I'm making the best decisions for Rachel and for myself. Can we please hold off on telling her for the time being? I just need a little bit more time to process."

"Of course," LeRoy acquiesced as if he was expecting as much. "You may absolutely have some time to think about how you want to move forward. But I…" he paused and sucked in a sharp breath. "I hate lying to her, and I think she deserves to know who you are. And I don't want to put you on some sort of deadline but I think I'm going to have to tell her about us meeting regardless of what you decide before Hiram and I head back to Lima at the end of the week. It's… she's been asking about you, Shelbs. It would be wrong to keep it from her."

"Yes, definitely, I understand," Shelby shook her head dumbly. Of course the father would be looking out for the best interest of their child. Yet here she was, only thinking about herself. What right did she have to be a mother if she couldn't even prioritize her daughter's feelings? "I'm sorry," she said dejectedly, deflating into her seat. "I wish I could just jump into this. But I really.. I don't want to hurt her and I want to make sure that I'm doing this for the right reasons."

"I get it," LeRoy sympathized. "I realize that you've been through a lot lately. I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel. But I.. if I could just say one last thing, Rachel is… she's a pretty understanding person. She's compassionate and she's always looked for the best in people. She cares. You don't have to be perfect, Shelby. If it's what you want, I think all you really have to do is try."

"Okay," Shelby replied, giving the man a thin smile. "She sounds amazing. You and Hiram have clearly raised her well. Thank you."

"Oh Shelby," LeRoy said softly, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat. "You're the one who did this unbelievable thing for us. We've been so happy. Rachel's been… she's everything to us. If we didn't say it enough then, thank you. I mean it. Thank you."

* * *

Later that evening, Shelby sat alone in her living room nursing a glass of red wine. She'd spent the rest of the day ruminating over her conversation with LeRoy in her head in between replaying every detail she's ingrained into her memory of Rachel's performance from the previous night.

Her head was spinning. She felt like she was going around in circles.

When she got home, she had every intention of calling LeRoy and telling him that she didn't need time to think about it. That she was being foolish for not jumping at the chance to get what she's always wanted. By the time the sun set, she was on the other side of it again. Was she so full of hubris that she thinks she could just walk into Rachel's life and expect it all to be okay? What if there was a chance that her daughter really was better off without her?

As the lull of the evening and the loneliness that followed it crept inside her home, more than anything, Shelby just wanted to talk to him. Michael had always been the one to talk her off the ledge. He was always the one who quelled her fears and soothed her insecurities. Especially when it came to her daughter.

She was terrified to tell him. She thought it was going to provide him a reason to walk away. But instead, he showed her empathy and understanding that she was never able to grant herself. He assured her, _promised_ her, that it had made him love her more.

Taking a final sip and setting the glass aside, she took off her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting against an intense form of exhaustion burning behind her eyes.

But he wasn't here. Not anymore. And she had to find a way to reckon with this herself.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she grabbed her laptop and wallet off the coffee table and opened up a familiar bookmark. After navigating her way through the web page, she clicked on the first available seat she could find for tomorrow's show, overlooking the cost. She needed to see her again, and there was no price she was unwilling to pay to watch her baby shine on that stage again.

After she confirmed her ticket, she lounged back against the couch cushions and looked around dismally at the empty living room. She didn't want to stay downstairs but she was equally reluctant to go upstairs. Being alone in their room was always the toughest part for her.

Making another impulsive decision, she typed in the URL for a furniture store. Without any deliberation, she picked out the first smaller, queen-sized bed she liked and added it to the cart.

Maybe it would help her move on. Go forward.


	3. Chapter 3

_Wednesday_

Shelby released a rather long and drawn-out a yawn while she leaned against the granite counter, nursing a cup of freshly brewed coffee in her dimly lit kitchen. She'd struggled through another restless night, wondering if she would ever get through an evening again without being woken up by broken dreams. And this one was particularly worse than usual with everything weighing on her mind, with _Rachel_ on her mind.

She'd spent the entire night thinking. Debating. That was—she still didn't know how to accept LeRoy's offer, if at all. Especially not now. She'd be the first to admit that even though she was almost seven months without Michael now, she was still having trouble keeping it together. She still felt consumed by it all. She was mourning. Lonely. _Empty. _

It didn't seem right to her to fill that void with a relationship with the baby she had given up two decades ago. She wasn't comfortable using anyone in that way, let alone her daughter. It's not the reunion she envisioned for them. It's not how things were supposed to be.

Still, she couldn't help but _want_ her. Rachel.

Through it all, Shelby hasn't had a lot of regrets in her life. She's owned the decisions that she's made. She'll take responsibility for how her life has turned out. She's learned how to deal with the consequences, mainly the seemingly irreparable relationship with her parents. She's accepted it all.

But her daughter—_Rachel__—_she was always the perfect amalgam of all of her glaring insecurities, unresolved issues, repressed emotions that she harbored deep down. The worst, the _best_ thing that's ever happened to her. All at once, all at the same time.

Fighting through another yawn, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and glanced around the large, spacious room. The kitchen used to be her favorite room in the house. Despite their extremely busy schedules, it was always where they shared a late dinner or dessert and a sip of wine together over the counter at the end of the day. Or when it was a particularly lousy day at work, it was Oreos, her favorite and her husband's proven cure-all, straight from the box and milk right from the carton. They had also entertained a lot in the past with their friends and Michael's family, but none of that has happened in the past seven months. A part of her missed the fullness and joy that filled their home from the dinner parties or board game nights they used to host, but even more so she missed the companionship of her best friend. Her other half.

She swallowed hard at the memories and for a faint moment she almost saw the man she had lived with for eight years open the pantry to pull out an invisible box of cookies that he always remembered to keep around the house for her. A pair of striking hazel eyes winked at her through a thick fringe of lashes. "_Think you might need these to help you feel better, Shel,"_ she could practically hear him say, smiling that playful smirk she was always so fond of, and then in a blink, was gone again.

Shelby shook her head to clear it. After another yawn, she gave up and set the partially finished mug in the sink.

It was time to start another day.

* * *

After coaxing a listless Bug through the morning walk he seemed completely uninterested in, Shelby took her time and got ready for the afternoon plans she impulsively made shortly after her coffee.

Right at one, her phone buzzed and she headed into the foyer to gather her purse, sunglasses, and coat. With one last look at the quiet tomb her home had become, she slipped a mask onto her face as she walked outside to join the world of the living.

Almost an hour later, she exited a cab in front of a modest apartment building in Queens. Before she reached the end of the walkway, the front door opened and Jesse stepped outside.

"Shelby, hey," her former student greeted opening his arms up to pull her into a hug. "You know you didn't have to come all this way, I would have gone out to Brooklyn for you or met you downtown before the show."

A genuine smile graced her lips and she allowed herself to lean into the embrace. "I know," she nodded. "But I wanted to get out of the house and come see you. I haven't seen your new place since you moved out of your mom's."

Jesse chuckled knowingly, running a hand through his unkempt curly hair as he led her inside the building and up a flight of stairs. "Yeah. That was three months ago now, but I'm going to be completely honest, I've been so busy with the show that I haven't had time to even unpack so it's still a bit of a mess. Sorry."

Shelby shrugged it off. "It's alright… I know I asked to come over last minute. I hope you don't mind, I just…"

"No, I'm really glad you did Coach," Jesse cut her off, turning to face the woman as soon as he reached the end of the hallway and stopping right outside his door. "It's been a while. I don't think I've actually seen you since the, uh, the funeral," he cleared his throat, bowing his head slightly. "And I'm so sorry I haven't stopped by I've been…"

This time, it was Shelby's turn to interrupt. "Just a little busy directing and conducting your first Broadway musical," she attempted to keep it light. Needed to. "No big deal."

"Right," Jesse let out another small chuckle, pausing briefly to examine the second most important woman in his life.

For all intents and purposes, Shelby _was_ his second mom. The life he currently had. Everything that was to come. His future. It was all in no small part because of her. Through all the angst and the tricks of a teenage rebel, she was the one who was able to haul him back in line. She was the one who channeled all the talent that he didn't know what to do with, who taught him to love and appreciate music, who awakened his fierce competitive instincts by not fawning over him, and who pushed him further, made him want it more.

And she had always, _always _been there for him. She paid for the music camps in high school that he couldn't afford out of her own pocket. It was her and Michael who took them into their own home when his mom lost his job, no questions asked. It was Shelby who brought him to his first Broadway musical, igniting a passion for theater that he didn't even know he possessed. She gave him every opportunity that he didn't even know existed to a poor kid from Queens who loved to sing and dance.

He idolized her. Worshipped the ground she walked on. Hung onto every word that fell from her lips. She embodied the traits that he admired in others and cultivated assiduously in himself. Shelby was highly intelligent, brilliantly talented, sometimes aloof and withdrawn, but just drew people to her with this inexplicable magnetism. It was a pull that was so strong, and one that he's only felt another time before, just recently.

And though his own mother truly cared for, loved him, and provided for him as best as she could, it was Shelby and MHSMPA that gave him everything he needed before he even know what to ask for. He knew perfectly well that it was because of Shelby Corcoran that he was who he was today.

But staring at her now, he struggled to remember all of that about Shelby because the woman, the teacher, and the principal he adored didn't seem to be there. All he could see were the dark circles under her eyes, the grim pallor of her face, and the ghost of a smile.

The lost light. The missing pull.

* * *

"I am so sorry again," Jesse apologized, glancing back to check if Shelby was still right behind him. "My call time wasn't supposed to be for another hour or so. I really thought we'd have more time to grab something to eat."

"Don't worry about it, I'll get something quick before the show," Shelby assured as she followed the newly minted music director through the backstage of the Lyric Theatre. It was two hours to show time and she figured she would take him up on his offer to show her around the historic stage venue in Manhattan, regardless of the very real possibility that she could run into _her. _

But Jesse had insisted. And she wasn't exactly clamoring to head home, so she figured she could indulge his request and head out before the rest of the cast and crew made their way in for work, before _she_ was expected to arrive.

"Sometimes, an actor wants extra time with me to go through their number before the show," he explained as he guided them down a narrow hallway. "It's probably just Eric. He's the one who plays Nick Arnstein. He's been struggling through some of his runs recently."

Shelby nodded in understanding as they passed by Rachel's dressing room first, her gaze lingering just a second too long. In her opinion, the actor who played opposite Rachel had an entirely less convincing performance on opening night. He lacked the necessary charisma to match her daughter's star. And as a result, his side of the story felt lackluster in comparison with Fanny's determined rise to fame, and in turn, with Rachel's.

"You know, it wasn't that long ago that I was yelling at you for skipping your mandatory rehearsals at school," Shelby mused. "How many Saturday detentions did it take for you to learn your lesson?"

"Not that many," Jesse answered, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. "It only took that one _brutal_ tongue lashing from you to get the gist."

"Well, you've certainly come a long way," she remarked, taking in their surroundings. "Really, Jesse. I'm _very_ proud of you."

"Thanks Coach C. You already know that I wouldn't be here without you," he credited, believing it entirely. "You _and_ Michael," a large part of him needed to add. "This wouldn't have been possible without you both."

That received another small smile from the woman. Whether it was Jesse, Giselle, or the countless other students throughout the years, Michael was always eager provide support or guidance in any way that he was able to. She often joked that he should have just traded in his Wall Street gig to be a teacher because he shared the same fervent passion for molding futures, cultivating dreams, and fostering growth. They were a team in that regard. _Were_.

"He would have loved this for you," Shelby replied, willing herself to stay strong. "But, you should also give yourself more credit. You've earned this."

"I'm trying to," he nodded confidently, slowing down his pace as they reached the rehearsal room. "Not gonna lie Coach C, but it's been a little overwhelming. I'm just glad we have the cast and crew that we do. It's a lot easier to do my job when I don't have to worry about carrying the whole team on my back."

Shelby chuckled, rolling her eyes. _There_ was that patented Jesse St. James arrogance she's spent years attempting to dull. "Oh yeah sure, glad that's not the case," she replied in fake sympathy.

Jesse laughed as he walked into the room first, obstructing her view. But when he stepped aside, Shelby felt her entire world stop abruptly at the sight of the young woman occupying the empty room. Her leotard was plain and black as was her cardigan, tights and pointe shoes. In fact, the outfit made her look like a shadow but still Shelby felt blinded.

The absence of music was the second thing that she noticed. Yet Rachel was dancing gracefully, _effortlessly_, gliding across the room as a build up for a gran jete that took Shelby's breath away. For a few moments, she was suspended in the air in perfect splits before landing softly, a challenge in pointe shoes. Rachel entered the final part of her piece, completing numerous spotless fouettes en pointe, entirely oblivious to the world around her.

Surprised and paralyzed, Shelby stood frozen at the doorway. Amazed. And the swelling of undeserved pride at Rachel's abilities was almost strong enough to just knock her off her feet. It wasn't as though she'd had anything to do with her daughter's development into such a lovely dancer, but knowing that she had probably done it on her own had made her just a little bit prouder. And much sadder. Had her fathers helped her harness that talent?

The young actress had pinned back the two braids at the front of either side of her parting to keep it off of her face while she danced, allowing the rest of her hair to flow freely. Shelby admired the long, dark hair similar to her own that spun around freely a few moments after the rest of her did and the caramel brown eyes that glistened in the sunlight creeping in through the only window. Rachel ended kneeling after doing a final turn. And three deep breaths later, the dancer stood up panting as she turned to face them.

"You know, most people dance to _music_," Jesse remarked lightheartedly, breaking everyone out of their collective daze. "It's kind of a thing."

A blush reddened the actress's cheeks at the unexpected audience. "Oh is it? I had no idea," Rachel quipped. "Don't be a jerk. Doing it without music helps me focus on the choreo. I want it to be perfect."

Jesse smirked, already moving to cross the room to meet her, as if an invisible tether was pulling him in. _This_ was the draw that's been consuming him recently. It was an unexplainable connection, a familiar one. She reminded him of someone. Though he couldn't quite pinpoint whom just yet. "As always. You don't even do that dance in the show."

"No, but ballet practice is always good," Rachel replied, stopping when she finally noticed the older woman staring at her intently, her heart rate picking up even more at the look of apprehension that just flickered across her face.

"Hi," she swallowed uncomfortably. "I'm Rachel." She didn't really have any reason to be nervous but the odd look being cast her way caused her to remain rooted to her spot. The woman said nothing but her gaze was that of someone who appeared to be memorizing a photograph.

For a moment, they both stayed silent while time expanded slightly, taking its deep breath. And although she was still at a loss for words, Shelby understood it was time to make a move. If nothing else, she felt the immediate urge to ease her daughter's anxiety. After gathering her courage she crossed the room, walking forward and offering her hand. It was old fashioned, but something of a reflex when meeting new people.

"Nice to meet you, Rachel. I'm Shelby Corcoran," she said, inserting as much warmth as possible into her greeting. Despite how badly she just wanted to run away.

Rachel's hand automatically shot out to meet her own and it felt like an electric shock to Shelby. The most she's felt in quite some time and not unaware either that this was the first time she's ever touched her daughter. She didn't want to let go.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Rachel replied, smiling brightly, recognition sinking in. "I've been wondering when I'd be able to meet you. Jesse talks about you all the time. You run the high school of Music and Performing Arts in Manhattan, right?" she rambled. Before Shelby could even think to reply, she continued. "Everybody at NYADA _raves_ about you. You're responsible for, like, half of those who were admitted in my class. I would have loved to have gone to a school like MPA. I say it all the time, but arts education is _so_ important. I mean I don't think wouldn't be here if it weren't for the glee club back at my high school."

_"__Rachel, I'm your mom. You are my daughter, and since you were born, there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where I haven't thought about you or missed you. We don't know each other, but there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you. You have and will always be everything to me. And although we've been apart, my heart belongs to you and you will always be mine. But I'm scared. I'm so terrified that you won't understand why I had to stay away. I didn't want to. I needed to. But I promise you, baby, that I have always loved you. I have always wanted you. I have always needed you. I'm your mother, Rachel, and I love you. More than you could possibly know."_

"I agree," she heard herself say instead, a burst of panic beginning to explode inside of her. This was too much. She let go of her hand. She needed to focus, needed to say something else. "Music and arts education is so necessary. But you're extremely talented as well, Rachel. Your performance on opening night was quite… _extraordinary._"

Rachel's smile expanded into a full one, causing the broken pieces of Shelby's heart to come together and soar. Its wingspan like an albatross.

_"__I'm your mom."_

"Aw, thank you," Rachel accepted the compliment gratefully, allowing the flattery to wash over her. "That means a lot coming from you. Did you hear that, Jesse? You can't say anything to me during rehearsal anymore. _Shelby Corcoran_ said that I'm extraordinary."

Jesse finally chimed in after spending the last minute or so observing the uncanny physical resemblance between the two women, wondering if he was the only one to have noticed the similarities. "I mean sure, I'll be certain not to say anything when you're sounding _extraordinarily _flat during _The Finale_," he retorted, laughing at the glare directed his way. "Are you the one who needed extra rehearsal time? Chelsea called me in early cause somebody asked to meet with me. Shelby and I had plans."

Rachel's brows furrowed together, glancing at the clock on the wall. "No, that wasn't me. I just wanted to get some dance time in before I got ready for the show. I was actually about to head out. It was probably Eric?"

Jesse hummed in acknowledgement while he studied Shelby curiously. He thought he knew every single one of his mentor's expressions by now. But he didn't know the one currently displayed across her face. She almost looked… afraid? "Probably," he shrugged, not taking his eyes off the woman. Maybe a little bit of shock as well? "Didn't see him on the way here though," he continued distractedly. "Coach C, are you… are you okay?"

He would have never dared to ask her that question before. But he never used to worry about her before either. She was Shelby Corcoran, after all. She was strength and control. That's how he knew her. But again, the person that was currently standing in front of him seemed to be a shell of the woman he admired so much and for so long. He missed her.

Shelby blinked through the whirlwind of emotions she felt lining up to assail her. Fear. Confusion. Joy. Overwhelming joy. And sadness. A painful, cutting sadness. For her. For Rachel. For Michael.

She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for her.

Even worse, a moment later, worry crossed her daughter's features that mirrored her own and Shelby suddenly felt sick at the glimmer of concern. No, this wasn't the reunion that she envisioned for them. This wasn't what her daughter deserved.

_"Rachel, I'm your mom."_

Instead, "Yeah, sorry I'm okay," she began, in a struggle to almost say anything at all. "I… I'm fine. I think I just might feel a little lightheaded. Now that I think about it, I haven't had anything to eat all day, so I think I'm going to head out and grab something before the show. But it was great meeting you, Rachel," she smiled bravely, still a little breathless. "Thanks for the tour, Jesse."

The musician hesitated but seemed to have accepted this. "Okay, yeah, sorry that I can't come with," he apologized again. "If Eric doesn't show up, I can come meet you back out for a little bit?"

Shelby winced. She appreciated the offer but hated it at the same time. When did she turn into the person who needed to be worried about? Who needed to be looked after? "It's okay, Jesse. I'm perfectly fine. I'll feel better once I get something inside my stomach. But I'm really looking forward to seeing the show again tonight," she looked at Rachel directly. Her daughter. "I know you'll both be incredible."

Rachel's face brightened once again and Shelby was more relieved than she expected to have finally said something right.

"Thanks, Shelby. Maybe you, Jesse, and I can have dinner together sometime soon? I'd love to get to know you better. I mean, you just know so much about the industry and I'd love the chance to pick your brain."

At the young woman's hopeful expression, Shelby couldn't find it in her to say no. "I'd love that too," she said, her heart in a knot.

"Great! We'll set something up then," Rachel replied merrily, not skipping a beat. "Oh wait and here, I have something that might tide you over," she continued, walking hurriedly past the pair to head for her duffel that she had relegated by the door. "I always feel funky too when my blood sugar's low, so I always try to carry around snacks with me," she explained, fishing for something in her bag. "Here we go," she said pulling out a snack pack size of cookies. "Oreos are kind of my favorite," she said as she walked back over to Shelby who was consciously trying to keep her face passive.

"Here," Rachel offered with a smile, unaware of just how much the small gesture was affecting the woman. "Think they might help you feel better."


	4. Chapter 4

_Thursday_

Eyes trained on the path in front of her, Shelby kept a steady and leisurely pace while she made her way around Prospect Park, drinking in the first bits of the early morning sunlight that illuminated her path.

It was the first time she woke up in recent memory with more energy than usual. And when she peered outside her bedroom window and noticed that spring was poking its head through the gray New York City sidewalks, she decided to head out for a jog.

Admittedly, she wasn't much of a runner. She was more of the yoga and Pilates type than cardio and weights. Her husband was the one who went on morning jogs religiously and signed up to run the marathon every year. But recently, whenever she did find the energy, she found herself running the same loop around the neighborhood park that he frequented. Maybe it was in her head, but she felt closer to him again somehow.

She even attempted to take Bug with her on a quick jaunt but her growing increasingly moody German Shepherd didn't even acknowledge her this morning. Maybe it was punishment for the second night that she's left him home alone in less than three days. Likely because after their almost seven months of solitude, he probably wasn't used to them being apart and that definitely made her feel guilty. She resolved, again, to be more mindful to ease her pet's anxiety.

At the fourth consecutive buzz, Shelby gradually slowed her brisk speed down to a lazy jog. After the fifth, she ceased her running all together and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket to peek at the source. But it took a few yards more for her to finally, and very reluctantly, look over the unread messages.

**April:** _Excuse me?!_

**April: **_How are you going to leave me a voicemail in the middle of the night telling me that you found your daughter and then not even pick up the phone when I call back? Either text me back right now or I'm coming over whether you like it or not!_

**April: **_Shelby! I'm serious! You can't keep ignoring me. _

**April****_: _**_Too late. I'm buying us tickets for the show tonight. _

**April****_: _**_Just Googled her! You're JOKING me! She looks just like you! _

**April****_: _**_SHELBY!_

Throwing her head up to the early morning sky, Shelby inhaled the crisp air in deeply in an attempt to regulate her breathing. Once she felt some semblance of calm enter her body, she brought her phone back up to her eye line and began to type a response back to her sister-in-law.

**Shelby: **_I just found out a couple days ago, A. She doesn't even know. I haven't told her yet. _

Three dots began flashing almost instantly.

**April: **_WHY NOT!?_

**Shelby****_: _**_I'm not ready. I'm on a run. Talk about this later? _

**April****_: _**_We can talk about it during the show tonight. I'm sending a car to pick you up at precisely at six so we can get dinner together. You are absolutely not allowed to bail this time! I'll kill you. _

Shelby shook her head at the warning. It was empty, of course. There was nothing even remotely threatening about Michael's effervescent sister, four years younger than them, and an aspiring singer songwriter who went by her stage named April Rhodes and splits her time between New York and Nashville. Whereas her husband was all business, her sister-in-law was all play. Although Michael did nothing but grin and bear his upper-class upbringing, Ivy League education, and stake in the family business, April made it her life's mission to rebel at every turn. She and her husband spent more times than she could count hosting the musician in their home or bailing her out from one of her many impulsive decisions.

But they loved it. They loved her.

Michael and April had a close bond as children that only blossomed into adulthood. And Shelby, an only child, always felt like she gained a little sister that she didn't even know she wanted… or needed. The three of them were a unit. They were best friends. She had more fun than she ever expected traipsing around the city, traveling around the world, and careening from one random adventure to the other with the Corcoran siblings. She had always been the happiest when they were together.

The past few months, however, she's struggled with her relationships with Michael's family, with April especially. It was too difficult. The memories were too potent, too powerful. She couldn't separate them individually from her husband. She didn't know yet how to exist in a world where there was an April without her brother, a reality without an April _and _Michael. Instead, she found it easier to stay away.

Still, April was one of the very few people in her life who knew about her past, one of the handful who knew about her daughter. And after the show last night and realizing that she wasn't any closer to a decision, she felt compelled to tell her. Maybe she just needed some perspective, no matter how difficult it was for her to face at the moment.

**Shelby****_: _**_I take it I don't have a choice?_

**April: **_You lost it when you didn't pick up the phone! See you TONIGHT._

Shelby sighed then she stuffed her phone back into her pocket before continuing her jog. She should've expected as much, but she also couldn't help but feel nervous. It had been weeks since she last saw April. For good reason, for _her_ reasons.

Though on a second thought, perhaps it was time to change that. Because really, she was the only Corcoran that she had left.

* * *

Shelby winced as soon as she heard her sister-in-law's voice cut through the early dinner crowds at one of her favorite restaurants near the theater district. She set down her drink, her second, and desperately wished that she could jump across the bar and hide.

"AHA!" April exclaimed with a pointed finger. "Found you! I _knew_ you'd be here."

Shelby threw a nervous smile at the petite blonde stalking towards her direction then faced away to gulp down another sip. She definitely needed the liquid courage now.

"I told you I was sending a car," the woman growled in annoyance. "And _now _we're late _and _missing the first act! Why are you like this?"

Shelby sighed as she pulled the seat out for the woman who didn't look pleased with her in the slightest. "I'm _sorry_, April. Really. I just…" she shrugged sadly, not knowing how to explain herself. "I don't know. I'm sorry. You're right. I should've texted."

She had certainly meant to. In fact, she was prepared to go to the show again. She'd go every night if it meant watching Rachel shine over and over again. It was seeing her sister-in-law that she wasn't ready for.

Again, she had never been much of a runner before. But now it seemed that she was turning into one in all aspects of her life.

April shook her head, trying not to stare at the stress and exhaustion written all over Shelby's face. Sighing, she threw her arms around her sister and squeezed a little too hard for comfort. "You should've, but it's okay. You're lucky I found you."

"How did you even know where to find me?" Shelby said as soon as she pulled away.

"Really?" April laughed while she settled in the vacant seat. "You and Michael were creatures of habit. You've been coming here for pre-show drinks for literal _years_. I've met you guys here like a million times."

"Right," Shelby said with a slow nod, smiling at the thought of happier times. "I'm sorry that we're missing the show," she apologized, now genuinely embarrassed by her actions born out of panic. "I will pay you back for the tickets."

April rolled her eyes as she looked over the menu. Shelby never did learn how to accept anything from her family without conditions. It was always pulling teeth. "Don't be ridiculous. You just have to promise me that we're going again soon. Maybe this weekend? I _have_ to see her. Did you read that review from this morning?"

"Probably a dozen times already," she admitted.

She arrived home from the park earlier this morning to a copy of the paper pleased to find and read and_ re-read_ the glowing review of Rachel's performance in the _Funny Girl _revival. She was glad and relieved that the Chief Drama Critic at the _New York Times _was generous with his critique of her daughter's Broadway debut because there was a very real possibility that she would have marched down to the newspaper office and demanded a reprint otherwise. That much, she was certain of.

"She sounds amazing, Shel," April said in an intrigued tone, lifting her fingers to draw the bartender's attention. "And you said you met her already? What was she like?"

Shelby paused for the first time to examine April who happened to be uncharacteristically dressed in business professional clothing. Not a sight she's ever seen before. "Why are you wearing a blazer?" She asked curiously, ignoring the question. "_And slacks? _Honestly, now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen you in pants."

April laughed, shrugging casually as she flaunted her outfit. "What? You don't like the power suit?"

"You look amazing, of course," Shelby complimented, amused. "Is this for a gig?"

"You could say so," April said, accepting her own cocktail from the bartender. "A gig… with dad."

"What?" Shelby replied, truly surprised. "You're lying. You're working at the firm? Since when?"

April nodded in confirmation, her expression turning serious. "For a couple months now," she sighed, pushing her drink away. "It's… a lot has changed, Shel. I've tried to tell you. You really should come over for Sunday dinner again. Mom and dad miss you. And I swear dad asks me how you are like every single day at work."

Shelby bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling. "I know, I'm sorry," she said, unsure of what else to say.

"Well you should at least stop by the office," April suggested instead at the subtle rejection. "Dad would love to see you _and _Holly. She's been asking about you too. And we're actually…" she paused, shifting in her seat. "We're cleaning out Michael's office this week. I… I'm going to be using it now, but you should come pick up his things. If you want to. Otherwise, I was probably just going to take it home with me. I got a new apartment, by the way. In Midtown. You'd like it. It's a two bedroom."

Shelby didn't even attempt to hide the disbelief that filtered onto her face at the string of unexpected news. "_You're_ taking over Michael's job? _And _have a permanent address? In Manhattan?"

"Well you don't need to look _that_ shocked," April replied, faux insulted. "I am perfectly capable too."

Shelby shook her head, beginning to backtrack. "I know you are. Of course, you are. I didn't mean like that, A. I just…" she struggled to form a coherent thought at the concept of her sister, the singer, artist, creative free spirit that she was, settling down and working a nine to five corporate job. "April, you literally led an Occupy Wall Street protest outside of the Corcoran Property Group offices. Your dad and Michael wanted to murder you. They didn't speak to you for weeks."

April laughed at the reminder of one of her many crusades back then and sighed again. "Like I said, a lot has changed, Shel. Dad needed me. And you know what? I also think that CPG needed some long, overdue fresh perspective. It's a boy's club up there. I'm trying to convince dad now to take up some more eco-friendly development projects recently. He's listening. I have plans and I want to reinvent CPG and really take it to the next level, you know, except with a lot more respect to social responsibility."

"Wow," Shelby remarked, still at a loss for words. "That's… wow. I'm sure if Michael was listening, he'd be rolling over in his grave right now."

April's mouth fell open. "Shelby!"

"I'm _sorry_," the brunette apologized again, ceasing her laughter, growing serious. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just surprised. That's all. This is a lot to take in. But I'm certain… no, sorry, I _know_ that you're probably amazing, A. And if you're happy and this is what you truly want, then I obviously support you. Always. And of course, God, _of course_ Michael would be so proud of you too. That's incredible April, seriously. I'm happy for you. You're settling down."

April tossed her a small smile, taking Shelby's hand in her own and squeezing it lightly. "Thank you. And I've missed you so much, Shel. I think about you all the time and I… how have you been? I know you're still on leave from work but, how are you? Are you doing okay?"

Shelby swallowed down the lump she felt forming, meeting her sister-in-law's persistent gaze for a millisecond before dropping her eyes again. "I'm… it depends on the day," she said truthfully. "Sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not."

And sometimes she felt everything, occasionally nothing, and often somehow both at the same time. She wasn't going to lie. Not to April. She also wasn't in denial over the fact that she's done an excellent job of allowing grief to settle in her heart. But more so, something that she's realized recently, was that a bigger part of her knew that she needed to do an even better job of fighting through it.

She knew that she needed to come to terms. Gather herself. Move on.

"Shel, you know I'm around if you ever need anything," April said after the subsequent silence that followed, her voice cracking at the sudden flash of pain in those emerald green eyes. "You don't have to do this alone. I don't know why you feel like you have to I'm here, I–"

"Can I tell you something?" Shelby interrupted, shaking it off and straightening her back. At this point, she would much rather discuss what the purpose of the evening was than make a foray into that particular conversation.

April sighed at the rebuff but relieved that the line of communication stayed open. "Sure. Of course, you can tell me anything."

"After I read the review in the paper, I sort of went insane and ran to the store, bought out all their copies, and _then_ maybe… perhaps… spent the entire day Googling Rachel," she blurted out the last part. "I couldn't help it! She's incredible, A. I'll have to send you the clip I found of her performing at a show choir competition with her high school. She… I don't even know, she blows me away."

April brightened at the way Shelby's entire demeanor seemed to have shifted. "Really? Yes, okay please tell me more about Rachel. You said you met her but she doesn't know?"

"I went backstage with Jesse yesterday and he introduced us," Shelby sighed, stopping to take another sip of her drink. "And I wanted to tell her, but I just panicked. I don't know, A. I just… how is it that it is _my literal job _to find the most talented students in New York, in the country, and _my_ own kid, who's probably going to be _at least _nominated for a Tony, by the way, flew under the radar? How, April? Literally how?"

"I don't know, Shel," April chuckled lightly as she watched the woman drink in more of her martini. "It is pretty ironic."

"Ironic? It's honestly just my luck."

"Shelby..."

"She's perfect, April. She is absolutely perfect," Shelby said adamantly, shaking her head in disbelief. "And I just… I look at her and I... I mean yes, without question, Michael was the love of my life, but Rachel, she is… she's _mine_ and seeing her in person, it's like my heart is beating for her, I can't even explain it, and I… there's nothing I wouldn't do, you know?" She turned her head to the blonde, her eyes clear and bright. "Absolutely nothing."

"Except introduce yourself to her," April pointed out with a raised eyebrow then lifted her glass to sip her own martini, bemused by the fiery scowl from her sister-in-law. "I don't get it. The contract is void. You have her fathers' blessing. You even have a connection through Jesse. She's right there, Shel. Just tell her who you are and go from there."

"I don't know," Shelby issued a low groan and dropped her head into her arms on the bar top. "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Aw come on Shel, what's not to like?" April said, lifting a hand to rub her sister's back in a comforting manner.

"You're right," Shelby rested her chin on her forearms and pushed out a loaded breath through her lips slowly, thinking. "I am amazing. Let's be honest, what if I don't like _her?"_

April smacked the woman's back at that remark. Not gently either.

"Ow! Excuse me, that hurt!"

"You're terrible," April chided, fighting down her amusement. "You just said that Rachel's perfect and you're the one who's been Internet stalking her all day long."

"I know," Shelby sighed sadly then tilted her head and flashed her worried green eyes upwards. "But I still don't really know her. What if we have nothing in common? Or we don't get along?"

"Well you won't know unless you try. And if that's the case, you won't be the first mother and daughter pair in the world to get into tiffs," April reasoned with a shrug. "Either way, you have to give her a chance Shelby, she's your daughter, you know, half of you. She _deserves_ for you to at least try."

Shelby quirked her eyebrows questioningly at April's no-nonsense demeanor, which was so unfamiliar on the usually amenable and bubbly blonde. This new April was one that she needed to get acquainted with.

"Besides," April smirked. "Do you remember the first time we met? When Mikey invited me out to—"

"Oh God, please don't. I've repressed this from my memory."

"To meet you both at that karaoke bar in Chinatown," April continued over the protest. "And you were allegedly so nervous about meeting me that you drank your weight in tequila and by the time I got out there to meet you guys, you were already dancing on top of the bar scream singing—"

"_Poker Face_," Shelby groaned in recollection.

"_Poker Face_," April laughed. "At the top of your lungs. At seven o'clock on a _Tuesday, _Shelby. And then at the end you jumped off the edge of the bar thinking that Mikey was going to catch you but he was just as drunk and—"

"He broke my fall and his nose and I needed to get stitches on my forehead," Shelby winced, rubbing the phantom scar on her forehead.

"And then I had to take you both to the ER and it took forever."

"I am _so_ sorry," Shelby flushed beet red, still as embarrassed today as she was a decade ago. "Have I ever told you that you're the best sister-in-law that I could have ever asked for?"

"Only once or twice," April chuckled, taking another generous sip of her drink. "But have I ever told you that Mikey told me that night that he was going to marry you and that you were it for him, that you were the one."

"And you probably told him that he was insane."

"Oh _of course_ I did," April admitted freely, ignoring the look of betrayal directed her way. "But… he also told me to give you a chance and begged me not to judge you because you were just anxious and that you weren't used to meeting new people… or letting anyone in. And that you'd been through a lot and that it was going to take a little bit more time for me to see past the tequila and the walls to realize how great you really are."

Shelby let out a small laugh and blinked several times to stave off the stinging pressure building behind her eyes.

"Michael really got me, didn't he?"

"He did," April nodded, knowing entirely that her older brother didn't just understand Shelby, but he accepted her wholly and completely, flaws and all, and worked to make sure that everyone else in his life saw his wife through his eyes. "And he always thought that you would've been an amazing mom. He already thought you were. And I completely agree, Shel."

"I just don't want to disappoint her," Shelby confessed, turning away from April's expectant gaze. "Or disrupt her life in any way. She's… it's all ahead of her, you know? She's just getting her life started and it's all out there, and I don't want to come in and ruin it for her now. It'd be selfish of me to just interrupt her life when everything seems to be going so well. It wouldn't be fair."

"Shelby, you're her mom."

"I'm her mother," she pointed out, her voice filled with unsettled emotions. "Not her mom. There is a difference. I'm not her parent. That's what she has her dads for. And she probably doesn't need me, anyway. She's nineteen. She's an adult, she's not a child anymore. I don't know if there's a place for me in her life. She…"

"Yes," April interjected and placed a calming hand on the brunette's arm, having heard enough. "Okay, yes. If you're looking at it that way, then yes. There are probably dozens of reasons you can come up with to not form this relationship with Rachel. But it sounds like to me that all they are just excuses. Yes, Rachel is an adult but that doesn't mean that she's outgrown needing a mom. And I know how much you've regretted not looking for her in the past. You've said as much. Michael's said as much, so if you don't want to take this next step because, for whatever reason, you really don't want to, then fine. I won't push you. But if you're holding yourself back from your daughter because you're scared, then that's not a good enough reason to stay away. If Mikey were here, he wouldn't let you close yourself up like this or throw away this chance."

"But he's not here," Shelby said quietly, her face visibly crumbling. "Michael's gone. And I… I don't know if I can do this alone."

April shook her head firmly in objection. "You are _not alone_, Shel. Never. I don't know what has made you feel like you don't, and I'm so sorry if it was me or something I did, but you absolutely have me. Always. You have our family. And I'm saying that you _can_ do this. Or that you should at least open the door for you and Rachel to decide, together, where to go from here."

A choice. Regardless of whatever she was feeling, despite her insecurities, didn't she owe her daughter that much? Shouldn't she put aside her own fears and worries? Couldn't she grant her that?

"Okay," Shelby relented and stared down at her cocktail, as if the drink could somehow provide her with the answers. "Okay. Yes. You're right."

"As always," April said, swiping Shelby's glass and downing it in one smooth gulp. "You'll figure it out _and _you are also going to buy me another one. It's been forever since we've done this and you _must tell_ me everything else you've found out about my future niece."

* * *

After a long affair of dinner and dessert and leaving April with a promise to continue catching up over the weekend, Shelby walked out of the restaurant and stepped onto the sidewalk with her mind whirling over everything they had discussed. It was almost eleven o'clock and although she knew that she was better off hailing a cab back home to Brooklyn, she decided that she needed some fresh air to regroup.

She wandered down the street, making her way through the post-show rush in the theater district and went west towards the Lyric Theatre. At this point, the show for the night was finished and cast members were now likely at the stage door to meet with fans. She figured she could go the direction of the theater, do a quick walk by, and head for the subway stop a couple blocks down to take her home. Truthfully, she just wanted to see Rachel again. Even if just a glimpse was all that she could handle.

April was right. She needed to start somewhere. And with two days left before LeRoy's "deadline," she was running out of time. A choice. She needed to make one. Rachel needed to make one. They both had to decide what they wanted from each other, what they needed from one another. If there was a place in both of their lives. If they wanted to try. If they should.

She knew all of this. And yet, as soon as she approached the stage door, she got that profound urge again to _run._

"_Shelby!"_

Knowing perfectly well who called her name, she turned away and hastened her pace. No, she couldn't do this.

"Hey, Shelby! Wait up!"

Her heart rate going overboard, she increased her speed as she walked away from the theater.

"Shelby! Hey!"

She pushed her way past the crowd forming at the end of the sidewalk but stopped dead in her tracks when a cab blared its horn at her right as it zipped by. Ignoring the curious looks being directed her way, she glanced around for another option. As soon as she tried to make a move, Rachel stepped into her view.

"Shelby, hey, there you are," the young woman said, breathless. "I was calling for you. Didn't you hear me?"

Shelby only stared at her and the silence between them stretched for an indeterminate amount of time while she pushed through every thought she had screaming at her to _run away_.

"Rachel–"

Before she could say more, Rachel grabbed her arm and pulled them off the side to avoid the train of people making their way through the busy intersection. It was only then Shelby took in the complex triple take of her daughter's expression: confusion, sadness, anger.

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday? You're… you didn't… _why didn't you tell me_?"

Shelby took a step back, startled. "You–"

"_I know_," Rachel cut her off again, shaking her read, refusing to break eye contact. "And you didn't say anything to me. You're my… you're my birth mother. You're my mom. Right?"

At this, Shelby felt the gaping hole in her chest that she's attempted to close with tenuous threads through her own will power suddenly rip open to expose the sheer amount of emptiness, grief, and sadness she possessed. Over Michael. Over her daughter.

"I didn't know how to," Shelby finally replied, wincing at how pathetic that must've sounded. "I wanted to, Rachel. I don't know. I just… I'm sorry. I only found out recently. I was trying to decide."

"Trying to decide what?" Rachel prodded, not skipping a beat, staring at her intensely. "My dad told me that he met up with you after opening night. You've known for like two days. Why are you… why didn't you… you pretended like you didn't know me yesterday. I don't understand why."

"I… I, I don't know Rachel. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

Shelby was panicking, hating herself for the imploring way her daughter was currently looking at her.

"You didn't want to meet me?"

"No," Shelby could answer that at least. "No, that's not it. I just…" her voice trailed off, her breath growing irregular, her heart thundering in her chest. "What do you want from me, Rachel?" Catching the girl's perplexed expression, she quickly added. "I mean, I don't… you're right. I should've told you. But what do you want from me? What do you need from me?"

Again, Shelby wanted to run. Sprint. As fast and as far as she could the moment she saw Rachel swipe at her eyes.

"I… I don't know," the young actress stammered. "I don't know. Why do I have to pick right now? I just found out too! Why can't we just talk about this first? Why do I have to decide anything? Why are you asking me that?"

Shelby's sight blurred, realizing that she was also crying now. "Rachel, I just… I don't know if I can give you what you need right now. I don't think I can do this. I don't know anything about being a mom or being a parent. And I'm just not in a place in my life where I can do this and I—"

"I met Michael!" Rachel blurted out, causing Shelby to absolutely freeze. "I saw him. Y-your husband. Eight months ago. He was at NYADA. The day I had my call back for _Funny Girl_. He… he was the one who… I met him. I didn't know it was him until I talked to Jesse about it earlier. We... Michael was there to see Jesse that day but he ran into me. I know him. I-I know about him. And I'm so sorry, I know you… Jesse said you really loved him. I can't even imagine…"

Of everything that she's learned over the past week, _this_ is what shocked her, what _broke_ her the most. Underneath the panic that choked off any words she might have spoken at the revelation, she also felt an intense amount of guilt at the look of care and love her daughter was giving her.

Without another thought, she took a single step forward and drew her in a tight hug, encompassing her daughter completely. And for a fleeting second, for the first time in months, she felt _okay. _

"Listen to me," she said through both of their crying, pulling her head back slightly to look at her child in the eyes. "I love you, okay? I love you _so much._ I always have. I always will. I just don't think that… will you just please think about what you really want here? Please? Can you do that for me?"

She watched Rachel open her mouth to speak, draw in a jagged breath, but then settled to nod her agreement.

"When can we—"

Currently fighting through the storm of emotions besieging her, she pulled Rachel in again, hugging her with what little strength she had, and kissed the side of her head. "Soon," she promised, letting go.

Not waiting for a response, Shelby turned around and began to walk away, her steps turning quick and rapid, until she was doing what she did best recently—_running. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Friday, eight months ago_

_"__Hey babe?" Michael called out as soon as he heard the garage door open behind him. "Where's the—"_

_"Already in the car," Shelby answered when she walked into the kitchen to find her husband, already dressed in a navy blue business suit with the matching tie thrown over his shoulder and in the middle of preparing his morning smoothie. "I had them all dry cleaned the other day and just went to pick it up on my way home. It should be ready for you to bring to Jesse. And thanks again, by the way, for agreeing to drop it off. I wouldn't mind going to NYADA later, but I've been so busy with back to school prep and—"_

_This time, it was Michael's turn to interrupt, turning around and leaning in for a quick kiss when his wife approached the island. "Don't worry about it," he assured, going back to his task. "It's Friday. My schedule's light. All I have is the board meeting this afternoon and then a check-in with dad at some point and I'm free otherwise. Besides, I haven't seen Jess in a while, it'll be good to catch up. I even texted him last night to make lunch plans."_

_"__That sounds great," Shelby grinned, squeezing her husband's shoulder as she walked by on her way to the fridge. "I'm sure he'll love that. He's been so busy this summer. But I'm so excited he got this job. He's going to be amazing. Can you believe it? Funny Girl."_

_"__You should come with," Michael suggested, throwing an assortment of fruits he just cut up into the blender. "We can grab pizza at that place you like by the park? It's been forever since the three of us have hung out." _

_Shelby reclined against the counter to face him, nodding as she sipped the water bottle she just acquired. "I know and that sounds fun. I want to but I don't think I'll be able to leave campus today. It's freshman orientation this morning and then I have an all-staff right before we leave." _

_"__Okay, that's fine," Michael shrugged, pouring the almond milk in next. "I'll come pick you up after school then? I'm going to pack everything up before I leave so we can get right on the road and then we can head out for the weekend. Thanks for taking the car to get the oil changed, by the way. Babe, can you grab the—"_

_Already walking over, she handed over the missing ingredient. _

_"—__honey?" he laughed, amused. "Stop doing that. You're freaking me out."_

_"__Sorry," Shelby chuckled, reaching over to grab the stray blueberries left in the bowl but was thwarted by Michael's hand swatting her arm away. "Hey," she frowned. _

_Michael palmed the leftover blueberries, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, babe. Bug has dibs on this," he winked then called their German Shepherd over. "Watch this."_

_Shelby watched Michael toss a blueberry towards their dog's direction, which Bug caught in his mouth while it was still in the air. Again. And again. Then two more times until Michael erupted in loud cheers. Bug also barked in approval while he maneuvered his head under Michael's unforgiving hands. _

_"__Oh wow," Shelby laughed, entertained. "Is this why you've been late to work every day this week?"_

_"Maybe," Michael admitted, crouching down to pet their dog properly. "But you have to admit, that was pretty cool. Huh, Bug?" he continued to fawn over the German Shepherd happily drinking in the attention. "I mean, who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks?"_

_"Alright," Shelby chuckled, walking around the island to join the two of them, reaching her hand out to brush the lint off her husband's shoulder. "I love it but please don't quit your day job. And I am going to shower before work, so I will see you later. Have fun with Jesse later." _

_Michael stood up to his full height and stole another kiss from his wife, one for the road. "Okay, I'm going to head out soon too. And I'll text ya later when I'm on my way to come get you but I hope you have a day—"_

_"—__As beautiful as you are," she completed her husband's favorite greeting, which, even after almost a dozen years, has not once ever failed to make her smile. "Thanks babe," she laughed at the manner he raised his eyebrow. "You too."_

* * *

_Friday, present time_

Shelby opened the door to her refrigerator and glanced over her options. It was still stocked with a variety of vegetables and fruits that she purchased at the beginning of the week but remained untouched because of her unexpected outings with LeRoy, Jesse, and April.

She used to hate to cook. Before, she couldn't make ice without spilling some of the water on the counter. But Michael, who was a self-declared amateur chef, loved to dance, sometimes literally, around the kitchen mixing in his imagination with a twist to create the most delicious meals. He was the one who taught her how to truly love and appreciate a good home-cooked meal.

Recently, she's been spending more time in the kitchen trying her hand at some of their favorite dishes. Like running, it was one of the hobbies she's picked up during the past few months that somehow made her feel still connected to her husband.

But this morning, she didn't have it in her to even think about making anything for breakfast. She was still struggling to clarify her thoughts over what Rachel shared with her the previous evening.

If he had met her, Rachel, _why_ didn't he say anything to her?

But he couldn't have known. It must've been random. By chance. Like opening night. Like everything that's happened over the course of the week. It was all… luck, accidental. She might even go so far as to say that it might even be _fate_.

Michael might have thought nothing of it. She, herself, didn't even know what her daughter's name was or what she looked like until four days ago. He couldn't have figured it out. Or if he had, he _wouldn't_ have kept it from her. _That _she was certain of.

Still, now that it was slowly coming back to her, he did try. He tried. They talked about it. They argued about it. In passing. Momentarily. He let it go. Then a week later, he was gone. She had forgotten about it. It was at the depths of the ocean of thoughts, memories that's occupied her mind since her entire world fell apart.

It was… she forgot.

She stared at the produce in front of her as if it would provide her the answers. After releasing a prolonged sigh, she grabbed the carton of blueberries from the fridge and brought it over to the sink to wash.

She was heading for the cabinet to grab a bowl when she heard a buzzing sound and decided to make a beeline for her cellphone instead.

**April: **_Morning! I might have told dad that you're stopping by the office today, so now you have to come. Sorry NOT sorry. Come by in an hour before our board meeting?_

Shelby felt a flash of irritation pass through her but it dissipated as quickly as it came when another thought crossed her mind. Maybe April knew.

**Shelby**: _Ran into Rachel on my way to the train after dinner last night. She said she met Michael last August. Did he say anything to you about this? The week before the accident? Did he mention anything about meeting her at NYADA?_

She watched the dots that indicated that April was typing appear but then vanish a few seconds later. She waited a few more. Then another minute.

**Shelby**: _Please be honest. I can handle it. _

**April****_: _**_No he didn't say anything to me. I swear! TBH not that I can remember. But can we talk about this when you get here? I'm about to head into a pitch. Holly's expecting you if you get here before I'm out. _

**April: **_Please come! Dad was so excited when I told him!_

Shelby hesitated to answer when she felt that same anxiety over seeing her sister-in-law crash right through her. She didn't want to go at all yesterday. In fact, she ran away. But, despite that, it did go well. And admittedly, she needed it. She needed to reconnect with April more than she realized. Perhaps it'd be the same way with Michael's mother and father, who both always made her feel welcome into the family, who both accepted her with open arms. Maybe she needed this, _them _too.

**Shelby: **_I'll be there at 10. But if I'm coming to Manhattan, then you're buying lunch. _

**April:** _Perfect because I already invited dad, so he's buying. See you! _

A smile pulled at her lips but instantly fell flat when her eyes landed on Bug sitting at the threshold of the kitchen and living room, unmoving.

_"__Dogs pick up on our emotions, so if your husband just passed away, he could be responding to the grief of others," _she recalled from her conversation with the vet yesterday. "_Or he may not be getting the attention he's accustomed to, which is stressing him out. Keep him engaged, do more of the things he likes to do, get him a little more exercise, and he should be fine." _

Heeding his advice, she devoted most of the previous afternoon to attempt to pull her pet out of his shell. But even a car ride and a trip to the park to break their routine, get some fresh air, and socialize with other dogs was futile. Instead, he spent most of their outing withdrawn and clinging to her side, uninterested in participating in his favorite activities. It also didn't help that she left him on his own the prior evening. When she arrived home, late, after hours of being out, she found him sitting by the window just _waiting_ for her to come home.

The vet also assured that Bug would come around, eventually, and that he just needed more time to bounce back, that he just needed some more TLC and positive reinforcements for happy behavior. But if he was right and her German Shepherd was taking his cues from her, she had to do her part in getting him through this, she had to do more in pulling _both_ of them out of this.

She set her phone down and padded over to Bug's bed set up by the corner. He was never really into toys, but he absolutely loved his plain old jute tug. Crouching down slowly, she sat down cross-legged right in front of her pet and reached out to rub behind his ears. She placed the tug toy in front of him and sighed when he didn't even lift his head from its position on the hardwood floor to acknowledge it.

Or, at least, he _used_ to love it.

"Hey Bug, how are you doing this morning?" She asked in a quiet whisper, almost as if she was afraid to spook him. She continued to stroke his fur gently, hoping to get some sort of reaction, any reaction, from her friend.

"Do you wanna play?" she encouraged, dangling the toy in front of his passive face. "Come on Bug, isn't this your favorite? We used to do this all the time. You love to play, remember? You and Michael used to play with this together. He always—" she paused, dropping the toy in her hand back to the ground in defeat. "I'm sorry, Bug. I don't know what to do. I just wish that I could help you feel better."

After another silence-filled moment, Bug moved his head slightly and sniffed her hand very briefly but didn't move any more than that. Lifting her hand up to swipe away an errant tear, she blinked several times to clear the fog in her eyes from forming. With another sad sigh, she scratched the top of Bug's head affectionately.

"Okay buddy," she yielded, beginning to stand up. "I can see that you're not in the mood, so we'll try again later," she promised, smiling a bit when he finally looked up at her. "I love you, Bug. And I'm going to head out for a little bit, but I hope you have a good day," she swallowed hard before she continued. "A day as beautiful as you are."

* * *

_Friday, eight months ago_

_After successfully squeezing their Range Rover into a tight parking spot outside of the NYADA campus, Michael shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie before taking it off completely. He rolled up his sleeves while he peeked at the time on the navigation screen and was relieved to have made it well before he needed to arrive despite the unexpected rush of mid-morning commuters downtown. _

_Setting his coat and tie aside, he pulled his phone off the car charger and patted himself down to make sure he had his wallet. Satisfied, he then slipped out of the car, careful to avoid traffic, then rounded the vehicle to open the back-passenger seat, grabbing the old suits he promised to bring Jesse off of the hanger. _

_After collecting everything he needed, he slung the large garment bag over his shoulder and finally headed towards the prestigious performing arts college while trying to recall his way around the main academic building. He had been on campus plenty of times before on work calls with his wife, often on invitation from her former students taking part in a performance or concert of some sort. _

_As soon as he walked through the entrance, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Thinking it might be Jesse, he pulled it out and glanced at the notification, opening it immediately when he saw it was a text and a video from his wife._

**Shelby: **_I know I'm not Bug but… just gonna say that this only took me like five minutes of trial and error to nail this. _

_Unable to wait, he clicked on the video while still planted in the middle of the hallway as students shuttled in and out of classrooms and weaved around him. _

_Michael watched Shelby appear on the screen a second later and she propped her phone up on her desk, walking backwards away from it until her entire body was in view. "Watch this," his wife said then proceeded to toss a blueberry up in the air and shuffled to catch it in her mouth effortlessly a second later. "Boom!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air in a victorious pose. "See, babe, learned that one all by myself," she said through her laughter while she moved back towards the phone. "Love you, see you later."_

_Also laughing out loud, Michael was about to text back when a furious flurry of a person came from absolutely out of nowhere and bumped right into him. His phone was knocked out of his hand and he also lost grip of the garment bag in his other, almost knocked off his feet in the process. _

_Winded, it took him another moment to gather himself and was shocked by the rather small stature of the force that almost took him out. _

_"__Oh my god, I am so, so, sooo sorry," the petite young woman said frantically, already crouching down to grab his cell phone off the floor. "I was—I didn't see you. Are you okay?"_

_Michael bent down to pick the suits off the ground and shook his head. "No, it's alright. I'm sorry, I was the one who was standing in the middle of the hallway. Are you…" his voice suddenly grew quiet when he finally looked up to face her, his breath automatically catching in his throat because he didn't know how, but he felt like he had stepped into more than a dozen years back to the past. "You…" He struggled to collect his thoughts as he stared at what very might well be a younger version of his wife. _

_"Sorry," she apologized again, handing back his phone. "I hope this isn't broken. I really didn't see you. But you're also the second person that I've almost barreled down today, so I think I might be the problem here. I'm just distracted, I guess. You see, I have this very important audition in about…" she paused to glance down at the clock on the wall. "Three hours and forty-five minutes and it's only the single biggest audition I've ever had and it could drastically change the course of my life forever," she rambled off in one big breath, stopping to inhale. "And I don't really know what's happening with me either, because I usually don't get nervous! I just I know—I know—that I'm a star. I know that I'm going to get in there and shine so bright that the sun is going to cry with envy. I know when my time is and I know that it's now," she declared with a definitive tone of conviction. "Unless," she paused, the anxiety slowly creeping on her face. "Unless I don't! Unless I get in there and… choke. Oh god! What if I get in there and absolutely just crash and burn!? I've made it this far. This is a call back! That means that they already have to like me, right?" She questioned, breathless. "Right?!"_

_Michael balked when the young woman finally paused and stared at him with a frantic expression. "Um—yes," he answered in haste, afraid that if he didn't, the mini meltdown would ensue. "Yes, of course," he cleared his throat, nodding his head up and down fervently. "A call back means that your performance in the initial audition was spot on and that you're one step closer to getting the gig. They must already like you, so right."_

_"__Okay, yeah," she said, nodding while she let the assurances sink in. "You're right."_

_"__Just do what you did the first time," Michael continued, channeling everything his wife has said in passing about auditions. "You made it this far, which means that you're doing something right. You probably killed it. Just go in there and believe and act like you deserve it. Or fake it till you make it, at least. What are you auditioning for?"_

_"__Funny Girl," she answered, the nerves flashing through her wide eyes. "The revival. I'm, uh, auditioning for the role of Fanny Brice." _

_"__Oh! That's fantastic! My uh… Jesse is actually the—"_

_"__Oh my god," she interrupted, her face turning deadpan. "Oh. My. God. Who do I think I am!?" She exclaimed, asking no one in particular. "I, me, I'm auditioning for Funny Girl. For FUNNY GIRL! For Fanny Brice. Fanny Brice in Funny Girl! And I think I can do this? I think I deserve this!?" She groaned, throwing her hands up in the air before stalking away to the bench a few yards away then plopping down dejectedly. "I can't do this. I can't," she sighed, her entirely body drooping dramatically as she buried her face in her hands. "I won't," she mumbled. _

_Dumbfounded, Michael hesitated momentarily, unsure what to do, before he made a split-second decision to follow the young woman. He couldn't leave her alone at this point. Probably shouldn't, anyway. He set the garment bag down before settling in the space next to her letting a few moments of silence pass by before he tried again. _

_"__What, uh, what song are you going to audition with?"_

_She lifted her head and sighed sadly, "Have you seen Funny Girl?"_

_Michael chuckled. "Only about a dozen times. It's one of my wife's favorites. She loves Barbra."_

_"__Me too," she returned the smile, albeit a very small one. "I don't just love Barbra. I want to be her. She's my idol. I'm a certified Barbra-devotee."_

_"__Makes sense," he nodded seriously. "She's an amazing singer and actress. Very talented. Do you go here? NYADA? Or are you just here for the audition?"_

_"__Oh, yeah, I'm a student here," she replied with an air of pride. "I'm a freshman—well about to be a sophomore, actually. But if I get this, then who knows? I may go on leave. I probably won't though, so we'll see."_

_"__Hey," Michael shook his head in objection. "Don't do that. I'm sure you're very talented too. I mean if you're a NYADA student, then that means you're already one of the very best of the best. And like I said earlier, a call back is already a positive sign. Own it." _

_Michael watched her chew on her bottom lip while a range of emotions flit across her face, which, like his wife's, seemed to be all too expressive. _

_"__I know," she exhaled, shaking her head, sitting up straight. "You're right. I know. I'm just…"_

_"__Nervous. Because you want this probably more than you've ever wanted anything else before?"_

_"__Right," she confirmed, slightly taken aback by how viscerally she was being understood right now. "That's… completely right."_

_"__Yeah, I get that," he nodded. "This is high stakes. You want it, so you feel like you have more to lose. But that's good, though. I always think that a healthy dose of fear can be healthy. You just have to channel that nervous energy into your performance."_

_"__Sure, but that's way easier said than done," she practically whined, her lips curling into a pout. _

_Michael let out a small chuckle, bemused by the way the young woman reminded him of his wife. It felt like he was staring at a crystal ball every time he looked at her, catching glimpses of the past. "What song are you going to audition with?" He asked again curiously, hoping to distract her. _

_"__Oh, I don't know, I prepared a Barbra song and I was thinking of singing—"_

_"__You can't do Barbra," Michael interrupted, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, banking again on all the knowledge he's gleaned from his wife. _

_"__What? No. Fanny Brice is the most iconic role," she protested. "This is the only way to do it."_

_Michael shrugged. "Yeah and Hamlet's an iconic role and it's been done differently and successfully by Laurence Olivier, Kenneth Branagh, Richard Burton, Keanu Reeves," he listed off. _

_"__Okay but Hamlet is different," she argued, frowning. "This is Fanny."_

_"__I get that," he accepted, raising his hands up in a fake surrender. "And I am absolutely not trying to question your judgment or anything here. Whatever decision you make will be the right one for you, and I'm sure that you'll be great. But… do you mind hearing me out? If I may?"_

_After some consideration, she sighed then nodded her silent agreement. _

_"__So, correct me if you think I'm wrong, but they cast Barbra as Fanny because she was one of a kind, right? She was different. She was an original. If the producers are smart, then they're not going to be looking for a carbon copy. They're going to want a fresh interpretation, someone who can put their own stamp on the role." _

_"__Well, great," she replied wryly, sinking even further in her seat in pure defeat. "I've just spent the entire time learning Barbra's entire repertoire."_

_"__Well, the good thing is that you have time. You still have a little more than three hours until your call back, right?" He asked, his eyes flicking down to his wrist. "You still have time, if you want to make any changes. Or, I don't know, I could be wrong too and whatever you were going to originally going to audition with will be just as good. It's just a suggestion."_

_"__Ugh, I don't know," she groaned audibly. "I don't even know what I would want to sing if I did change it. I don't have time to learn anything new."_

_"__Well maybe it doesn't have to be anything new," Michael suggested, beginning to feel guilty that he might be psyching her out rather than helping. "Maybe you should sing something that's meaningful to you. A song that's important to you or has impacted you somehow. A song that you love… maybe one that will help show the producers how much you love to do this."_

_She hummed in acknowledgment, ruminating the advice over in her head. "Yeah… maybe you're right. I don't know. What would you sing?"_

_Michael laughed out loud at that question, only because before Shelby, he had the blandest taste in music. Still does. "Oh, I don't know, sorry," he apologized. "I don't think you want to ask me. My wife makes fun of me often because all of my playlists are just variations of dad rock. I think anything from Journey is probably my top-played. I mean, Don't Stop Believing is my go-to karaoke song."_

_"__Don't Stop Believing," she parroted, realization dawning on her face as if she was recalling a memory. "Don't Stop…" her voice trailed off, seemingly talking to herself. "I can't believe I didn't… that would be... Don't Stop Believing… that'd be perfect." She instantly leapt up to her feet, her eyes bright and determined. "I have to go," she announced. "I… wow, thank you. That's such a valid point. How do you know all that stuff? Do you teach here?"_

_Bewildered by the 180 and the instant bout of energy, Michael also stood up to face her. "Oh, no, I'm just visiting a family friend. It's my wife. She's a music and performing arts teacher, actually. She taught me everything I know about all of this," he said, always in awe of the brilliant and talented woman he was lucky to call his. "She's a wealth of knowledge when it comes to this stuff and some of it just stuck with me, I guess. Anyway, she's like you. She loves Broadway and Barbra too."_

_"__That's amazing," she said, sincerely grateful for them both at this particular moment. "Really, thank you. And I'm so sorry again for bumping into you but this was… you're very kind. And I appreciate all the advice. I'm actually quite glad I ran into you. This was very helpful." _

_Michael smiled at the politeness and professionalism from the young woman. "It's nothing," he waved it off. "I'm glad I was able to help. But no matter what, you should try to remember that it'll all be great. It's already a tremendous honor to be even in consideration, so I'm certain you have a bright future ahead of you regardless of what happens."_

_She beamed, tucking her hair behind her ear then squaring her shoulders confidently at the compliments from the stranger. "Thank you, that means a lot," she extended her hand out. "And I'm Rachel, by the way. It was really nice to meet you."_

_Michael accepted the handshake, returning the wide smile being cast his way. "I'm Michael, and likewise," he said truthfully. He couldn't wait to tell Shelby about this. "Break a leg, Rachel. I hope that you do shine like the star that you are."_

_Rachel laughed, blushing at the reminder of her mini outburst earlier. "Thanks again, Michael," she said sincerely. "I hope you have a good rest of your day!"_

_"__You too, good luck!" He wished again, waiting until she walked away before he picked up the suits to carry on with the rest of his day. _

* * *

_Friday, present time_

Shelby kept her eyes trained on the digital screen in the elevator flashing each floor that she passed. At this point, she was the only one left on her journey to the 85th floor in the towering office building in the financial district.

When the elevator dinged, she stepped into a sleek, minimally furnished reception area. The C-suite. Soaked in the soft glow of the hazy, Manhattan sun. Two buff security guards manned the entry.

She remained unmoved, taking it in. Then and now. She never got used to this. In a flash, a beautiful middle-aged woman with long blonde hair and wide blue eyes appeared to greet her, immediately drawing her into a crushing hug.

"Hey Hol," Shelby brought her arms up to embrace Michael's assistant for the better part of a decade. "It's good to see you."

"I've missed you so much, Shel," Holly Holliday replied, squeezing one more time before relinquishing her hold. "I'm so glad you're here!"

Shelby smiled while Holly linked their arms together, leading them through the glass doors. "April left me no choice. But I'm happy to be here. I missed you too, Hol. How have you been?"

"Right. She is a little terrifying for someone so tiny," Holly laughed. "I'm doing well, though. I actually just got back from vacation. I needed it, and it was nice to get away. It's been… different around here. But good. Are you seeing Charlie later as well?"

Shelby swallowed hard at the mention of her father-in-law, waiting for him to walk out of any one of the spacious executive offices they passed by along the wall. "Yes, I think we're going out to lunch with April. How's he doing?" She asked, guilt coiling in her stomach at not knowing the answer herself. "Is he well?"

"He's working a lot less than he used to. But he's hanging in there," Holly answered. "We all are, I think. Michael was… well, you know, he was the glue up here for so long," she said sadly. "But it's alright, April's here now. She finished management training with your dad a couple weeks ago and she's excited to make moves and to change things up. She has a lot of plans. I think it'll be good for the firm."

"I know, I heard," Shelby replied, still in disbelief over the news. "Which is crazy to me, because I'm pretty sure those security guards are only out there _because_ of April. Remember her three-day-long sit-in over the proposed development over the pipeline in North Dakota? She shut that project down."

"It's completely bizarre," Holly admitted, chuckling. "Last week, I had to figure out how to get kombucha on tap for the kitchen. Michael would've _hated_ that."

Shelby laughed out loud in agreement but balked when they turned the corner. Her heart thudding out of rhythm, she subconsciously slowed down her movement when they approached the familiar space.

Holly, a few steps ahead already, glanced back worriedly. "You okay?" She asked, her voice already filled with concern. At Shelby's hesitation, she continued. "Sorry Shel, I thought April said to let you wait in here. She said you were coming to pick up Michael's things? I already put a couple boxes in there for you. But we can go where April's temporary office is instead if you're more comfortable with that and I can pack it up for you. Whatever you need."

Shelby nodded in objection, attempting to shake it off. When did she turn into this person who _needed_ to be coddled in this way? She was never like this before. This was never who she was. What would her husband think of her now?

"No, it's okay," she replied quickly, pulling herself together. "I'm fine, sorry Hol, I just… has anyone else been in there or has used it recently?" Her eyes pointed to the office with the frosted glass door that always remained open, a policy Michael adopted early in his tenure. "That might be a dumb question. I don't know."

"No," Holly replied, understanding. "Not that I know of. I mean, I did a few months ago to get some files. Charlie will sometimes go in there. April said she's waiting for us to clear it out, so she can redecorate. But… no. As far as I am aware, no. Everything there should be exactly how it was before he… no one else since that day, since Michael."

"Okay," Shelby forced herself to breathe then tossed Holly a grateful smile for being so empathetic. "Sorry… do you actually mind if go in there alone? I just—"

"Not a problem," Holly assured, stepping towards the brunette, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "April's pitch meeting should be wrapping up soon anyway, so I should go check if they need anything. I'll be back soon. Just shoot me a text if you need anything."

"Okay, thanks. And you don't have to wait or anything either, you and April can come back here whenever you're ready."

"Sounds good. See you in a bit then," Holly replied before heading off to give the woman some privacy.

Before she could change her mind, Shelby practically charged into the spacious corner office, the overhead lights flickering on as soon as she stepped inside the room.

She shut the door behind her and glanced around the familiar surroundings, instantly missing her husband more than she knew was possible.

Blueprints of Michael's favorite projects lined the wall—their house and home in Brooklyn placed prominently in the middle. A variety of books, mostly sports biographies that he couldn't get enough of, filled the shelves. Near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the skyline of lower Manhattan was the monolithic L-shaped desk that he was obsessed with keeping organized. But behind it, along the window, were all of the framed photographs of them, their family, and their friends propped up for his guests to see.

She always thought that it seemed random and out of place in the stylishly decorated and modern executive office. But Michael always said it was important for him to have visible reminders of his life outside of the office and what truly mattered to him. That it kept him balanced, grounded.

Shelby swallowed with difficulty when she walked over and picked up the first one that caught their eye: a candid one of her and Bug asleep together on their couch at their summer home by the beach. It must've been taken recently, judging by her haircut in it since she cut it short for the first time last summer. She didn't even know this photograph existed, but she couldn't help but smile at the thought that Michael liked it enough to get it printed and framed.

She studied it for a little while longer before she finally peeled her eyes away and inhaled deeply. She couldn't do this all day. She brushed it off then picked up a couple more pictures, forcing herself not to get bogged down by the memories. She put them in the boxes Holly set aside for her. Then went to get a few more. And some more. She just needed to focus on the task ahead of her.

After packing up his desk, Shelby was in the middle of deciding which of the dozens of her husband's books she wanted to keep and read when she heard three loud knocks reverberate on the glass door, pulling her attention away from the bookcase.

She looked up to see Holly and April standing outside the door and she motioned for them to come in. Holly pushed the door open, leaning in. The background office noise of ringing phones, chattering employees, and printers feeding paper, seeped into the quiet space.

"Hi Shel, is it okay for us to come in?"

"Of course," Shelby granted, standing up to her full height. "Sorry I didn't mean to close the door. Please come in. I'm almost done anyway."

"Hey lady," April greeted as she moved in for a hug. "Thanks for coming. How's it going? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Shelby replied bluntly, beginning to slightly detest that question. She settled down on the informal black leather couch with April joining her and Holly occupied a seat at the small conference table. "How was the meeting?"

"I killed it, of course," April shrugged coolly. "I don't know why Michael ever complained about work. All it is is just a bunch of corporate flirting."

Holly laughed. "Yeah, well, just you wait," she warned knowingly.

Shelby fidgeted in her seat, trying to get comfortable while the two women continued to banter. Stopping for the first time since she entered the space, she felt a sudden upending swell of sorrow, and it was difficult to control. She leaned back and crossed then uncrossed her legs before giving up then sat up straight.

"Can I ask you guys something?" She decided, interrupted.

April and Holly's chattering ceased immediately and both blonde women looked at Shelby curiously.

"Yeah absolutely," April answered first. "What's up, Shel?"

Shelby hesitated, collecting her thoughts. She sincerely hated that this was who she was now. "How are you… how are you both so okay and you can be here and you can work and I'm… I'm not. I'm not anything. Just being here in his office is enough to make me… I don't know," she struggled to explain herself. "I just… April, you've… and I'm not trying to say that neither of you aren't grieving, because I know that everybody processes differently but… god, I don't know, April you were his sister and Hol you were practically his best friend. And the two of you are sitting here. In his office. Making jokes. And I, I've been locked in my house for months. I can't even talk to my _own daughter _because I'm so blinded with this _intense_ and _inexplicable _pain from how much I miss him. I don't… how? What's wrong with me? Why am I the only one who's having such a hard time moving on?"

A heavy silence enveloped them as each of them got a hold of their emotions.

"I'm sorry," Shelby broke it. "I don't mean to—"

"You know I went to Hawaii for vacation, right?" Holly interjected. "I was there for an entire week and didn't go the beach _once. _I spent the entire time in bed crying because on the way there I decided to watch _Miracle, _his stupid favorite movie about stupid hockey, and then it reminded me about all the times he roped me into schmoozing with clients at Rangers games. I… listen, I brought three different bikinis and bathing suits with me that didn't see the light of day. I… I miss him too, Shel. Every day, I miss him too."

Shelby managed a small laugh, lifting her hand to brush away the tears she felt on her cheeks. "I can't believe—"

"That I'm working here?" April cut in this time, chuckling but also swiping at her eyes. "Because I can't either. And I don't even really know why. It doesn't make any sense, right? But all I know is that it's helping me, being here makes me feel closer to him, working here makes me feel like I understand him. It's helping me move on somehow. Does that sound dumb?"

Shelby reached over and grabbed April's hand to take in her own. "No," she shook her head firmly. It's why she's been running. It's why she's been cooking. "Not at all. I'm so sorry. I don't mean to say that you two are having an easier time with this. I know we're all going through it. I just… I haven't noticed until this week that I've just been going through the motions. I blinked. And eight months has gone by. And Michael… he would've hated this for me, right?"

Holly simply offered a reluctant nod, and April copied the gesture.

"He'd want all of us to move on," April added. "But Shel, I've also had mom and dad these past few months. I've had Hol. Maybe it seems like I'm making more progress but that's only because I've been able to lean on everyone on my hardest days, whenever I miss him the most. And I promise that I'm not trying to judge you because like you said, everybody grieves differently, and you, _especially_, are going to be affected, maybe even the most. But you've also shut yourself off. You've isolated yourself from everyone, from everything for almost a year now. And I don't know, I'm also struggling too and I don't know the best way to move forward but… you closing yourself up like this, _that, _is something that Michael would've hated for you without a doubt and you not taking this chance with Rachel, _that_, he would've hated more than anything."

"Yeah," Shelby whispered, closing her eyes and catching her breath before continuing more weakly. "You're right. You're both right. I need to do better. Not just for myself, but I have a daughter now that I need to think about."

In a moment, April threw her arms around her and Holly soon followed, the three women wrapped up in a tight embrace, drawing comfort from one another. Shelby composed herself while she was in the hug and by the time they pulled away she had her show face planted firmly again across her sharp, angular features.

"Hey Hol, can I ask you something else?" Shelby blurted out before it slipped her mind.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Okay, I don't know if you remember this at all, it was so long ago, before everything," Shelby began, scrambling to figure out the best way to explain. "I'm trying to remember. I've been thinking about this all morning, but do you remember the Friday before the last weekend in August last year? It was the Friday and the weekend five days before the accident. Michael left work early because we wanted to go up to the beach, like we always did the weekend before Labor Day to avoid the crowds," she stopped to think of any more extraneous details. "Or he might've been in and out because he also went to NYADA for me that day to drop off a few of his old suits for Jesse because Jesse needed to dress professionally for auditions. I don't know what else…"

Holly furrowed her brows and pursed her lips together in thought. She only had to think for a few short moments before answering. "You know what? I think I do because there was the end-of-month board meeting that day and he skipped it for the first time, ever."

"What?" Shelby questioned, more confusion settling in. "Why would he do that? He used to prep for days for them."

"I know," Holly agreed, nodding. "I think that's the the only reason why I remember. He came back from lunch and he was distracted and…" her voice trailed off, trying to gather what else happened that day.

"I ran into Rachel yesterday after the show," Shelby attempted to erase April's lost expression. "She told me that she met Michael the day of her call back for _Funny Girl_ and it was that Friday that I'm talking about, I'm pretty certain. I don't know I'm just… why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Well he probably didn't know," April reasoned, not buying that her brother would have kept it from Shelby had he known the truth. "That it was her, I mean. Unless they talked in-depth but it sounded like it was just in passing? What else did Rachel say?"

Shame over her actions the previous evening hit her directly in the gut. "I don't know. I didn't give her a chance to explain because I might have... walked away," she eked out the last part, grudgingly.

"Shelby!" April admonished. "Did anything I say last night even stick? You can't do that to her. She's going to think that you want nothing to do with her!"

"I know," Shelby responded tersely. "I know, okay? But I asked her. And she didn't even know what she wanted from me either, so please cut me some slack. And I asked her to think about it. I think the ball's in her court now."

"Absolutely not," her sister-in-law argued. "Like what does that even mean? How can either of you make any sort of a decision without _speaking to each other," _she clapped in between her words. "Go to dinner or something, _please_. You'll feel better about it all, I promise you."

"How do you know?" Shelby questioned, her irritation flaring. Of course, from April's perspective, this was all easier said than done. "How do you know that it's going to be okay? What if she's already decided that she wants nothing to do with me or that she doesn't need me. I don't—"

"Shel, you used to work in a law firm back in Ohio, right?" Holly cut in, entirely lost in the conversation since she last left it.

"Yeah," Shelby answered in a questioning tone, ignoring the other topic at hand. "Why?"

Holly leaned forward thoughtfully. "Yeah, I remember because Michael asked me to look it up that day. I'm pretty sure. I had to look for their number. He didn't say why. And it was such an odd thing, but I think I forgot about it because he said he was going to call your parents."

"What?" Shelby and April replied simultaneously.

"I don't know, but I think that's why he missed the board meeting," Holly guessed. "And he didn't say anything to you?"

"No," Shelby shook her head, a breath of sheer frustration puffing from her lungs. Why didn't her husband tell her _any_ of this? "We spent that entire weekend alone, just the two of us. And we… we had another argument about me not wanting to contact the Berrys since the contract expired, but that wasn't our first one about it and then he let it go. I didn't… no, if knew anything about Rachel, obviously, he didn't say anything to me about it."

"Or maybe he wanted to or was going to," April couldn't help but defend the man. "But then couldn't because…"

"Yeah," Shelby breathed out, running a hand over her face to settle her emotions, knowing exactly where the end of that sentence was going. "Because then… he couldn't."

* * *

_Friday, eight months ago_

_"__Hey Hol, can you come in whenever you get a chance?" Michael asked his assistant when he walked by her desk on the way to his office. "I want to talk to you about something."_

_"__Sure," Holly replied, not skipping a beat and grabbing her planner and pen to follow her boss inside the executive suite. "How was your lunch with Jesse?"_

_Michael finally glanced up from his cell phone, a wide smile splitting onto his face. "It was great. He's doing really well. Did Shelby tell you he got the job in the Funny Girl revival? He's going to be the currently youngest music director on Broadway. Isn't that insane?"_

_Holly laughed while she settled into the leather armchair in front of Michael's desk. "Aw, you sound like a proud dad."_

_Michael shrugged as he leaned up against the cabinet along the window, careful not to knock down any of his framed photographs. "Sometimes I feel like I am," he said truthfully, smoothing his hand across his freshly-shaven five o'clock shadow. "Jeez, I don't know, I mean, I love that kid like I am his dad."_

_Holly smiled warmly. "Of course. I didn't mean anything by it. I know how much he means to you and Shelby. That's great, honestly. We'll all have to go together on opening night."_

_"Yeah just try to stop me," he joked, tossing his cell phone on the desk. "Anyway,'" he continued, unrolling his sleeves to dress more professionally. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"_

_"__It's kind of my job to do you favors," Holly pointed out, chuckling. "You're the boss."_

_"Right," Michael nodded, nervous about this, but his curiosity was currently winning out, so he moved past it. "Well, it's not really work-related. But…"_

_"__Mike, you're being weird," Holly said suspiciously as she watched him continue to fidget, currently spinning his around chair in front of him. "What's up? You know I'd do anything for you."_

_Michael nodded. He knew that. "I appreciate you, Hol," he said, continuing to evade what he wanted to say directly. "I don't know what I would do without you, you know that?"_

_"Alright," Holly shut her notebook back down. "Unless this is going to end with you giving me another raise, then I am going to go back out there, do my job, and wait for you to tell me what it is you actually need."_

_Michael chuckled at the threat, stopping then sitting down to face his friend rather than his employee in this instance. "I met… I don't know," he backtracked. "I feel like I'm overthinking this. Shelby always says that I have a terrible habit of obsessing over something and fixating when I get an idea in my head."_

_Holly scoffed. "Oh, I know that, trust me. So, what's this idea of yours?"_

_Michael hesitated when his eyes landed on the only photograph he had on his desk_—_one of him and his wife from almost fourteen years ago. Their first one together that was taken at his birthday dinner two weeks after they started dating._

_She looked so much like her. _

_And even if the appearances were purely coincidental, maybe it was time to have this conversation again anyway. He wanted this for her. For them. He always has and he knew that his wife did too. She just needed some convincing. Assurances. Support. And he would give her all of that and more if she was willing to open this discussion again. It was time. _

_"__I'll tell you," he began. "When I figure it out. But first, I need you to look something up for me. Before Shel moved to New York, she used to work as an assistant I think for a family law firm near her hometown in Ohio. I think it was Lima. I don't really have any more details than that, but can you give me a number I can call or talk to someone who worked there maybe twenty years ago? I know it's random."_

_"Why can't you just ask her?" Holly questioned, intrigued. _

_"__Um, it's a surprise," Michael hoped to leave it at that for now. _

_"__Okay, sure," Holly accepted, not thinking any more of it since the man had a track record for grand romantic gestures. "That's easy enough. I'll call around for you. Is there anything else?"_

_Michael shook his head no. "I think that's it. Oh, and I know the board meeting is in a few, but I'm not going and can you screen my calls for the next half hour or so?"_

_Holly could barely keep her mouth from falling down in shock. "What?"_

_Michael shrugged it off. "I already told Ben. He's going to fill in and report my updates. Dad said it was fine. There's someone I need to call."_

_"__Who?" his assistant asked, opening her planner back up to check if she had missed anything. _

_"__Shelby's parents."_

_"__Part of the surprise?" _

_"You could say so," he nodded, his focus faraway. "I'll tell you everything soon, I promise."_

_"I know, I know," Holly said as she stood up to make her way out of the room. "Just let me know when you're done obsessing over whatever this is." _

_"__You bet. Thanks again, Hol!" He said gratefully. "You are truly the best."_

_He leaned over and brought the picture of a young Shelby closer to him, as if he was attempting to gather some strength from it. Because if there was any chance of them moving forward, if there was any chance, at all, of them finding her, he knew he had to do this first. _

_He set it back down to its designated spot then picked up his cell phone, drawing in a deep breath before taking a leap. For them. For her. Always for her. _

* * *

_Friday, present time_

After unbuttoning her coat, Shelby set her keys and purse down on the counter and began rifling through the mail in her other hand.

"Hey Bug," she greeted her German Shepherd, her face falling when she noticed that he was still in the same spot she left him earlier this morning. She peeked at his water and food bowl, sighing when she noticed it was still a little more than half-filed. "Buddy, you have to eat. What's going on with you?"

She set the mail down then walked over to him and crouched down, scratching the top of his head worriedly. "What do you want, Bug? Do you want to go outside? Go on a walk? Or do you want a treat?"

Bug only whimpered his response and blinked up at her.

With another sigh, Shelby rose to her feet and stormed over to the walk-in pantry, determined to find a solution. She scanned the shelves before she found what she was searching for, taking the dog's favorite snack over to him. She broke the jerky treat in half and placed it in her palms, offering it to him. "Come on Bug, please eat for me."

Still uninterested, Bug sniffed it before turning his head away again.

"Okay Bug," Shelby said, consciously forcing herself to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I just don't know what to do anymore Bug," she echoed her concerns from this morning. "I think we're going to have to take you to the vet, huh? Maybe get some medicine to help you feel better?"

She pet him a few seconds more before giving up, trudging back over to the kitchen in a quiet surrender. She moved over to the sink to wash her hands and her sight fell on the blueberries she abandoned earlier. Blueberries. She let the water wash over her hands for a moment too long while the memories of that Friday morning with Michael automatically flashed through her mind.

An idea crossing her mind at the reminder, she plucked a few blueberries from the bowl then went over by her despondent dog. "Bug, can you catch this for me? It's a blueberry," she showed it to him. "I'm going to throw it to you, okay? Can you try catching?"

Sending a silent prayer out to the universe, perhaps to Michael, she gently threw the fruit his way and watched it fall straight to the ground. Then again. And again. All three landed on the floor around him.

Unwavering, Shelby decided to switch up strategies. "Bug, look," she called. "You do it like this," she waited for his focus to turn to her before she threw a blueberry up in the air and caught it in her mouth. "See! You catch it like this."

She repeated her motions again to demonstrate. "Bug, I know you know how to do this," she encouraged. "Michael taught you how, remember? Should we try again?"

Shelby threw the second to last blueberry in her hand over to Bug, who lifted his head slightly to try to catch it, but missed just by a hair. He barked.

"Bug! You do remember!" She exclaimed, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. "Here, I'm going to try again," she said, a smile forming on her face. She held her breath when the blueberry arched towards Bug, falling perfectly right into his mouth.

He got up on his legs and barked again, making his way over to the woman. Shelby bent down and enveloped him into a hug, blinking away the instant tears that made its way down her cheek. "Oh Bug, you don't even know how happy you've just made me," she whispered, pulling away when he barked again. "That was so good! So good, Bug. And it's going to be alright, bud," she promised. "You're okay. We're both going to be okay."


	6. Chapter 6

_Saturday _

"Shelby? Are you still there?"

Closing her eyes and swallowing back her anxiety, Shelby answered. "He called you about that?"

Elise Foster sighed on the other line. "Yes," she told her daughter, impatience in her tone. "And I really don't know why he felt the need to. You don't need our permission. You can obviously do whatever it is you want, just like you always have your entire life."

"Mom," she replied, stamping down everything she could have said to that remark. She forced herself to focus. "I don't want to argue about this again. Please."

"Why are you asking, anyway?"

Shelby hesitated while she watched the black drip into the glass jug and listened to the whirring of the coffee machine occupy the thick silence. "I met her," she began.

Her rehearsed speech was on the tip of her tongue. She was ready to explain to her mother everything that's happened over the past week, but something seemed to stop her before the words could leave her mouth. Like it always did when it came to these conversations about her daughter.

"You met who?" Elise pushed for more elaboration, pausing. "Do you mean that child that you just gave up? You met _her_?"

Shelby chewed on the inside of her lip, biting down hard enough to draw a little bit of blood. "If you're referring to _my daughter_, then yes mom, that's who I'm talking about," she replied, clearing her throat to keep the emotions out of her voice. "Her name is Rachel. She's… she's beautiful. She's nineteen now. And she's an actress. She's actually the lead in a musical on Broadway right now. I saw her on opening night a few days ago, and I ran into the Hiram and LeRoy. The Berry's. They're in town."

Shelby left it at that for now and reminded herself to breathe during the awkward silence that followed. A million unasked questions hung in the air.

"Mom?"

Elise let out another sigh, one so pregnant with disappointment, that it automatically pulled Shelby back to her days as a teenager when everything she did, every decision she made, never seemed to be _right _or _enough_ for her parents.

"What do you want me to say here, Shelby?"

Shelby blinked the building pressure she felt stinging, finally glancing away from the coffee machine she'd been hyper-focused on. "I don't know," she admitted. What was she looking for here? "I just…" she shook her head. "Maybe some support, mom? She's… I want to be in her life, in Rachel's. But I don't know if that's the right call. I'm… I've been struggling. I don't know if now is the right time to start a relationship with her. And I don't know if she needs me or if she needs another parent. I'm just confused, I guess."

"Well you should have tried to start a relationship with her when she was younger," Elise said in exasperation. "And she's an adult now, there's not much parenting left for you to do now is there? You're too late."

"Okay, great," Shelby responded, frustrated. "That's great, mom. Yeah. Thanks for that."

"Come on Shelby," Elise countered. "You know that you and I are never going to see eye-to-eye on this. I don't understand why you would just give those men your baby. You and Michael keep asking me and your father to change our minds about this, but like I told you, twenty years ago, Shelby Anne, that I do not agree with what you did. Like I told that husband of yours when he called about this, you practically gave up that child for money. And for what? For you to go off to New York and live your grand old life there? And where does that leave you now, huh, Shelby? You're all alone. What was all of that for?"

"It was for Rachel!" Shelby exclaimed, effectively snapping at the harsh words spoken. "It was all for Rachel," she repeated, her tone grave. "It was for Hiram and LeRoy who _deserved_ to be fathers. God, mom. They're good people. They're amazing fathers. They deserved to have a family of their own. And Rachel _deserved_ the incredible and safe and secure childhood that she got with them because it led her here. To New York. On Broadway. Living her dream. Perfectly happy and healthy. And if _my decision_ led us all here every single time, I would do it _over_ and _over _again! Even if it means ending up alone!" She all but screamed the last part, breathing heavily as waves of pent up emotions and stress poured out of her.

"Okay," Elise stated simply after a few paralyzing seconds. "If that's how you feel, then that's how you feel."

Shelby pulled the phone away and switched hands, attempting to re-induce blood flow after losing sensation from how hard she was clutching it. "Fine," she conceded. "You're right, mom. I don't know why I thought this time would be any different. But I just thought that you and dad should know about her… Rachel. Because no matter how _you feel_ about this situation, she's your granddaughter too. At the end of the day, she's a part of our family. And I'm… I am going to find a way to build a relationship with her," she said determinedly, making a decision. "Whether or not you want to be a part of that, I'm going to leave entirely up to you, mom."

"Fine, Shelby."

Shelby nodded. She should have expected as much. "Fine. Just… fine," she swallowed back the sob she felt threatening to escape. "Okay well, at least I hope you and dad are both doing well. Just… yeah, I guess just let me know if you need anything," she couldn't help but add. "I'll talk to you soon."

Breathless, she pressed end call before she could wait for a reply and slammed her phone down on the granite countertop. She immediately gripped the edge of it to keep herself upright and balanced. Why did she always think that these conversations would end differently? After all these years, she was still hoping for _more_ from _them_.

She could practically hear Michael saying, "_I told you so."_

"_Shelby," Michael began with a disgruntled sigh. _

_She closed the piano fallboard down gently at the shift of the conversation. She was no longer in the mood to sing. _

"_Michael," she replied in a clipped tone. _

"_I just don't understand why you won't even talk about this. You said you wanted time. It's been months. And she's not…" he paused, sitting up to face her directly. "She's not getting any younger. You're losing… this is what you've been waiting for right, Shel? For her to turn eighteen? For the contract to expire? Both of these things have happened and yet you're still here waiting."_

"_Where is this coming from?" Shelby demanded, standing up from the piano bench and grabbing her glass of wine off the coffee table on her way to the kitchen. "Why are you so being so persistent about this? I already told you that I'm not ready. Stop pushing me."_

_Michael shook his head, running his hand across his hair while he attempted to temper his frustration. Leave to his far too stubborn wife to literally run away from this conversation. He rose to his feet and followed her to the other room._

"_Well when are you going to be ready, Shel? Next month? Next year? Aren't you even curious at all? Don't you want to get to know her? She is your daughter."_

"_Don't you dare ask me that," Shelby bit back, clear hurt marked all over her features. "Of course, I do," she said definitively. "You know I do."_

_Michael instantly hated himself for the way his wife's eyes filled with tears but still refused to spill over. She was the strongest person he knew. Without question. Shelby was a woman who, during the most perilous of storms, consistently adjusted her sails when the wind did not blow her way. But this was always her greatest vulnerability. The one wall that he couldn't quite penetrate. And it was one that he knew desperately needed to come down. _

"_I just think that you should start with reaching out to the Berry's," he suggested, consciously keeping his voice even and measured. "You said that you left it all on good terms. From everything you've told me about them, they seem reasonable and understanding. The contract wasn't for life. And besides, she's an adult now, this decision should be left up to her."_

"_And up to me," Shelby responded, tossing her glass in the sink with such a force that she was surprised it didn't shatter. "It's up to me. Not you."_

_Michael couldn't help the irritation that flared at that remark. "Oh okay," he nodded bitterly. "So, you're fine with crying to me about her and how much you regret staying away, and it's up to me to help you through that, but then all of a sudden it's not up to me when it's time to actually do something about it? I thought we were a team. Forgive me for trying to stop you from waking up one day and realizing that it's all too late."_

_Shelby stepped back involuntarily, Michael's words cutting right through her. _

"_Shel," Michael backtracked, feeling instant guilt at the blows he just delivered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I don't… of course this is ultimately your decision. I just… what are you so afraid of? Because you'll be an amazing mom, Shelby. I know that for sure. She'd be so lucky to have you."_

"_How do you know, Michael?" She questioned. "You have nothing to base that on. You have no idea if that's true. I don't know anything about being a parent." _

"_You don't need to!" Michael couldn't help but raise his voice, stepping in front his wife off to block her from walking away. "You don't have to be perfect at it like you try to be in every other aspect of your life. This isn't like your job, Shel. Or a new hobby you want to pick up. You're not going to be good at it, like at all probably, at first. But you just have to try. You need to open yourself up to this. Even if you don't want to. You just have to."_

_Shelby pushed past him and took a few steps before turning around abruptly with a desperate expression. "Michael. Please stop. I told you I'm not ready. I said I don't want to talk about this." _

"_No," he objected, steeling himself. "And I really don't know why you feel like you can't because you have me and you don't have to do this alone. Why are you even giving up on this before you even try?" At Shelby's silence, he continued. "I don't understand why this is the one thing that you have absolutely no confidence in. I really don't get it, Shel. I don't know, what? Is it your parents?"_

_The painfully visible way that Shelby's demeanor seemed to have stiffened provided Michael with the answer. _

_Michael sighed. "Really, Shel? Jeez. Babe, why do you even care what they think? They don't… you're never going to get their support on this. Why does it matter so much to you?"_

"_Why does it matter to you!?" Shelby finally shouted back. "She's not your daughter, Michael! She's mine. I get to decide how to move forward. Not you. Okay? And of course, I care what they think. I don't want to. But when the two people that raised me constantly remind me that one, I've made a mistake and two, I should have never had a child in the first place, I can't help but believe them. They're my parents."_

"_Who constantly make you feel like shit about this!" Michael argued, ignoring the other barbs thrown his way. "Don't let them dictate what you want. I don't understand why they have so much bearing on this. Shelby, you did this sincerely selfless thing for two people who really wanted a family," he lunged for her arm as soon as she started to turn around. "You sacrificed. Despite how much I know you wanted to, you honored your promise and you stayed away to give them that. And now it's time for you to allow yourself to want your daughter back. Even better, it's time for you to please stop caring what your parents think! And let me tell you Shel, it's not that hard, cause they're wrong. They're absolutely wrong about this. You don't need their blessing to look for your daughter. You don't need their permission to be a mom!"_

_She jerked her arm away from his grip and lifted her hand to cut him off. "Michael, stop," Shelby warned seriously, her voice wavering. "I told you that I don't want to talk about this. I don't…" she dropped it back down in resignation, the fight leaving her. "That's all easy for you to say, okay? But I… it matters to me. I wasn't like you, Mike… I didn't grow up in a perfect family. I didn't have parents or a sister like yours. I was alone. And they're all I had. And I know I shouldn't let it affect me and I know it shouldn't… but it matters. It matters to me. And I don't know anything, okay? I know nothing about being a mom. I don't… I'm just not ready. Please let it go," she begged, the tears falling this time. "Just let it go." _

She was pulled away from the memory when she felt Bug poke her leg, barking at her and trying to capture her attention. She blinked several times until the coffee machine, now finished brewing, came into sharp focus. Then she peered down at Bug who was nudging her with his head.

She inhaled slowly to compose herself then mustered a small smile when she finally reached out to pet him. "Hey Bug, what's up? You okay?"

He pushed his nose into her hand and then trotted away towards the direction of the living room. He paused halfway there and barked at her as if calling her to follow him. Curious, she headed to join him and genuinely smiled when she noticed his tail wagging. Bug walked over to the black grand piano situated by the fireplace and in front of the window. She had an electric one in the space she used as her office in the basement for arranging and occasionally teaching, but this was the one that she truly _loved_ to play.

It was where she went to pull herself out of any mood, where she sang the songs that she enjoyed the most, where she entertained her husband and their friends, where she felt the most at peace in their home.

But recently, every time she caught a glimpse of it, she just felt _empty. _She can't remember the last time she's played the piano. She can't even recall the last time she listened to music just to simply enjoy it. And despite what Bug was trying to do, she still couldn't find it in her to even want to. Her inexplicable _need_ for her parent's approval. Her insecurities that seemed to be crippling her from going after what she wanted. Her inability to jump off the ledge. It couldn't be solved with quick session on the keys or a Barbra ballad. It wasn't enough.

With a sigh, she bent down to face her dog. The only thing that was actually making her feel better was the fact that Bug seemed more like himself this morning. And that he seemed to care enough to try to help. "I'm sorry buddy, I'm just not in the mood right now," she apologized, rubbing him in all his favorite spots as a peace offering for her refusal. "Maybe later. How about you and I go on a walk instead?"

Bug cocked his head in approval as soon as she said walk and Shelby let out a small laugh, feeling slightly better. Maybe her mother thought she had no one. But that's where she was wrong, because Shelby knew that she at least had her dog. And now, she resolved, she would hopefully have her daughter too.

* * *

**LeRoy: **_H and I just got here. Sitting at table by the bar and still waiting on Jesse and Rach! See ya soon!_

Shelby lifted her head from her phone and glanced around her surroundings then made a split-second decision. "Right here's good," she told the cab driver. "The intersection is fine."

"Are you sure?" The man asked looking at her through the rear-view window. "We're still three blocks away."

"It's fine," she assured. "Thank you."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped out of the car as soon as he pulled up to the curb in Midtown. She needed more time to collect herself before she arrived and figured she could walk the rest of the way in order to do so. After tucking her coat closer to her body, she forced herself to move towards the direction of the restaurant. Propelled from her conversation with her mother, she realized that it was up to her to take the next step.

She knew what she wanted. She was going to try. She had to try with Rachel. She was going to pull herself together. Move on. Find a way to build a relationship with the other person besides her husband who's owned her heart. And for the first time, allow herself to _want _it.

At the very least, she was going to do her best to. Even if it all felt as though she was leaping straight into the unknown.

But now, she didn't know what her daughter wanted as well. Maybe Rachel had a vastly different idea of what she wanted or needed from her. Regardless, she figured that lunch with her fathers and Jesse in between their two-show day would be a safe place to start. A neutral space with the people in their lives they mutually shared. Buffers.

Still, she didn't know what to expect. But when she heard Jesse's voice call after her and she turned around to watch him sprint the few yards towards her, she instantly felt her heart plunge to her stomach at the troubled expression his face held when he approached.

"Hey," she greeted, frowning when he didn't reply right away. She peeked past his shoulder to check if he had company. "I was just heading to lunch. Where's Rachel?" She couldn't wait for an answer. She could read Jesse like a book. "What's wrong?"

He gave her a half shrug, shaking his head as he stepped off to the side to avoid the flow of pedestrians. "Nothing," he responded in haste. "I don't know, actually. Um… but I don't think Rach is coming."

"Oh."

"I-I'm not sure. But I think she said she wanted to rehearse something before the next show and that she may stop by after she's done," he made the effort to sound reassuring.

Shelby was almost afraid to ask. "Did she say why?"

"I don't know," he replied, consciously keeping his face passive. "She was unsure before we left and I didn't want to pressure her. She's been… distracted since she ran into you the other night. And I'm really sorry Shelby," he frowned. "I didn't mean to instigate all of this. We were just talking. It was just casual conversation about you and… Michael…" he explained nervously. "She's the one who put the pieces together. I didn't mean to get in the middle."

Needing to interrupt, Shelby reached out to squeeze his forearm. "It's okay Jesse," she assured. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. I'm the one who should have told her right when you introduced us. I've just been… I just found out too, on opening night. I didn't know who she was. I wasn't trying to keep it from her on purpose. I've been processing."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Jesse wondered, his sharp blue eyes filled with hurt. "You had a daughter, Shelby. You had… Rachel. You never said anything?"

Shelby nodded sadly, the thought that Jesse might have felt left out never occurred to her. They were family. He was one person that _should _have known. "Oh, kid, I didn't mean to hide it from you. It's just something that I've always kept to myself. It was… _is_ complicated. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Jesse replied, knowing that, truthfully, he would probably forgive Shelby for almost anything. "It's crazy, though. I can't wrap my mind around it. And if that's how I feel, I think that's what Rachel's thinking too. You should really talk to her."

"I'm trying," Shelby responded, unable to maintain eye contact. "I want to," she corrected. "She's still at the theater?"

"Yeah. She told me to go ahead and that she'd try to catch up but I don't know, I'm not sure."

"I think that's on me," Shelby sighed deeply. "I should have talked to her the other night. I don't know what I was thinking," berating herself even further in her mind. "She probably doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

Jesse shook his head in objection. "That's not true," he said firmly. "She asked me a million questions about you the other day, and she was texting me all last night about you. I think she might just be nervous… and processing? Like you are? There's no way she doesn't want anything to do with you. That would be _absurd_."

Shelby managed a small smile. Sometimes, Jesse would just look at her in a way as if he was just _certain _that she could give him the stars and the moon if he asked her for it. She determined a little while ago that it was one of her favorite things in the entire world. If nothing else, their relationship was the one thing she always felt like she had done right.

"Thanks Jess, but I think you might be biased," she chuckled humorlessly. She glanced at her phone screen briefly then made a decision. "You think I should go talk to her?"

"Oh absolutely," he encouraged without any contemplation. "I think you should go get her and bring her to lunch with everyone. We still have plenty of time before we have to be back for the play tonight. Do you want me to come with you?"

She opened her mouth and started to say yes but closed it on a second thought. She _had_ to move forward. With Rachel. With her life. And she couldn't use the same crutches to keep her going anymore.

"No," she stated as convincingly as she could. "That's okay. I should probably do this by myself. Will you let her dads know that we're on our way?"

"Sure, no problem," Jesse readily agreed. "I can go keep Mr. and Mr. Berry occupied. Just text me if anything changes?"

"Will do and—"

"Hey, wait," Jesse interrupted, his face falling. "Before you leave can I, uh, tell you something?"

Shelby lips fell into a worried frown at his apprehension. "Of course you can, what's up?"

Jesse hesitated for an extended moment, scuffing his boot against the sidewalk in thought. It was only when he felt Shelby rub his shoulder with a gentle hand did he lift his eyes to catch her concerned gaze.

Shelby ducked her head to keep contact. "What's going on, kid? You okay?"

Without another word, he immediately engulfed her into a fierce hug, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her slightly off the ground for a little longer than usual. "I'm fine, sorry," he answered when he pulled away, his cheeks flushed at his unexpected rush of emotions. "It's… nothing, never mind. Sorry, Coach. I think I've just missed you. It's been a while. I know these past few months have been hard, but I hope we can start to see each more soon."

Shelby's stomach twisted in guilt, resolving again that not only did she need to do better for herself, she needed to commit to moving forward for everyone else she loved as well, _especially _for them.

"I promise we will," she vowed, pulling him in for another quick hug. "I'm going to go get Rachel, okay? Meet you at the restaurant."

* * *

After persuading security to allow her to search for her daughter, Shelby walked through the backstage of the Lyric. She retraced the route she went with Jesse the other day and peeked into Rachel's dressing room first then the rehearsal space next, coming up short both times.

She stopped the stage manager that Jesse previously introduced her to in the hallway who pointed her to the direction where she last saw the young actress.

While fighting every inclination she had to run away again, Shelby made her way to the stage and stopped short at the wing when she saw her daughter pacing distractedly around the set design for the first act.

Her mind told her to move but her body just felt _frozen_, not willing to take the next step.

"Shelby?"

She blinked, twenty years flashes rapidly in her mind, and then _her baby_ was standing right in front of her. She studied the young woman carefully for an undetermined amount of time still unable to grasp how much she ended up looking like her, _so much_ that she wonders if she'll ever be able to look at her daughter without forgetting how to breathe.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Rachel asked, her expression faltering.

Shelby's heart constricted at the questioning tone. Maybe she deserved that.

"I came to look for you," she finally found her voice, crossing the marked boundary to meet her. It wasn't lost on her that it was her first time ever stepping onto a Broadway stage, the reminder of her dreams given up long ago floating to the top of her mind. But she quickly pushed them away, willing herself to focus on her new dream. A bigger and better one right in front of her.

She took another step closer. "I think we should talk."

"Oh," Rachel's demeanor dropped even more. "I'm sorry I didn't come to lunch with you and dad and daddy. I was just… I don't know…" she sighed, her voice wavering. "I'm not sure. I'm not trying to ignore you on purpose, I swear, I think I'm…"

Shelby stepped again, this time taking Rachel's hands in her own. "It's okay," she said softly, reaching out to run a palm over daughter's cheek slowly then lifted her chin up gently to lock eye contact. "I promise that it's okay."

At this, Rachel's face crumbled completely, the tears falling just as fast and Shelby, without any hesitation, pulled her child into her embrace.

"Oh, my baby," she whispered when she felt Rachel's arms encompass her completely. She rested her cheek on top of her head and rubbed light circles onto her back at the feeling of her daughter's tears against the nape of her neck. "I've missed you so much."

Shelby continued to hold Rachel close until she felt her crying cease and her breathing calm. She only realized she was crying herself when she pulled away and her daughter brought up a hand to wipe away the stray tears from her own eyes. She briefly wondered what the two of them must look like and that thought brought a smile to her face.

"We really have to stop bursting out into tears every time we see each other," Shelby joked, taking her daughter's face in her hands and took her turn at brushing away her tears with her thumbs. "No more crying, sweetheart. Everything's going to be okay." Rachel leaned into her touch when Shelby placed a kiss on her forehead, lingering for a little while before letting her go.

"I'm sorry I walked away from you the other night," she began, needing to explain herself and get everything off her chest before that feeling went away. "I've been… I'm going to be honest, Rachel, I have not been in a very good place in my life," she admitted. "Since losing Michael, I have been sort of in the dark, and I didn't realize how long I've been stumbling around until… well, until you, Rachel. Seeing you for the first time, it was like," she paused, trying to conjure the words to best express herself. "It was seeing daylight again. You, right here, it feels a lot like I'm finally waking up."

At her words spoken, Rachel lunged herself into her arms for a second time. Surprised, Shelby wrapped her arms around her petite form and felt the warmth of the young woman she still considered her baby girl seep into her, making her want to cry all over again.

"Hey," Shelby asked a moment later, realizing her daughter had yet to say anything at all. "What are you thinking, Rachel? How are you feeling?" She kissed the top of her head and she pulled her head back to look at her properly, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach when she noticed Rachel's expression close up.

Rachel stepped back from the embrace and cleared her throat, her eyes downcast. "I've always wanted to know you," she said, nodding her head diffidently. "Honestly, I've been preparing a speech the past day or so to help minimize the potential awkwardness of our first formal meeting, but most of it no longer seems pertinent, so… I'm not quite sure, um, on where to start."

"That's alright," Shelby said reassuringly, understanding completely. "Neither do I, actually."

Rachel breathed out a sigh in relief at that, at the very least, the two of them were in the same predicament. "Maybe we can go somewhere more private?"

After agreeing, Rachel led them back to the rehearsal space where they first met the other day, both lost in their thoughts and attempting to collect themselves on the way there.

"Sorry, I should have probably taken us somewhere with chairs," she apologized as she closed the door, her eyes pointing to the sole piano in the room used for rehearsals. "I suppose that'll do though."

Shelby balked, thinking of Bug from this morning. She only began walking again when the sound of Rachel moving the piano bench pulled her from her thoughts. She settled in the vacant spot next to her daughter, scanning the abandoned miscellaneous sheet music in front of them. Perhaps this was a sign that she needed to get back to doing what she loved as well.

"I don't actually know how to play the piano," Rachel relayed with a sad shrug. "I learned how to read music for auditions, but between singing and dancing and acting lessons, I didn't have time to learn how to play. I've always wanted to, though. Do you play?"

Shelby smiled at the nervous rambling. "I do, but not recently, though," she admitted. Her smile faltered when she caught that same enigmatic expression from earlier fall upon Rachel's face again. "Maybe I can teach you, if you want?"

"How did you know where to find me?"

Shelby's stomach coiled at the rejection of her suggestion. "Jesse told me. He caught me on the way to the restaurant. How come you didn't want to go to lunch?"

Rachel's back stiffened at the inquiry. She wasn't ready. "You and Jesse seem to know each other pretty well? He said that you're like a second mom to him, and that you've been supporting him since he was a teenager. He also said he even lived with you and Michael for a little while?"

Shelby frowned at the noticeable hint of jealousy in her voice. "Yeah," she replied, measuring her words carefully. "I've known Jesse since he was a freshman at MPA. We are close and he's grown to mean a lot to me, but Rachel, he needed me. He didn't have the best childhood and—"

"You don't think _I _needed you?"

Shelby lost her breath that remark.

"I'm sorry," Rachel shook her head in frustration. "That's not… it's fine. I'm not mad about it. I'm glad Jesse had you."

"Rachel, you can be angry," Shelby was quick to reply. "You can feel however you want to feel about all of this. I know it's a lot to process. You are allowed to be mad, or sad, or happy, too, I hope, but whatever you're feeling is okay."

"I'm just confused."

"That's fair," Shelby agreed. "I'm confused too."

"Did you ever regret it?"

Shelby didn't need to ask for any more elaboration, understanding perfectly well what her daughter was referring to. "Yes and no," she refused to lie to her.

"Oh."

She turned to face who might as well have been a younger version of herself. "I can't regret it, Rachel, because look at who you are and where you are now. I could _never_ regret this."

A faint blush settled onto Rachel's cheeks, but was followed by a worried crease on her forehead. "Why didn't you look for me sooner?"

Shelby should have been prepared for that question, but still struggled to assemble a proper response. "I wanted to," she said, her conversation with her mother, her argument with her husband, invading her mind. "I didn't know whether or not I should," she decided to stay the course of brutal honesty. "I felt like _you_ didn't need me. I was scared that I would mess it all up."

"What about now?"

"I still feel that way," it pained her to confess. "But I want to try. If you'll let me. I would love for us to try to figure out a way to have a relationship, in one way, shape, or form," she jumped. "What do you want?"

The question hung in the air and the silenced stretched between them. Shelby frowned again, realizing that tears were falling from her daughter's far too expressive eyes again. "Baby?"

"I want to too," Rachel answered through a partial sob, hating what she was about to say. "But I'm scared that I won't be able to make you happy. And I'm worried that I won't be _enough_. I think you're right and I'm not sure if we should be in each other's lives right now."

Shelby's heart split wide open at the implication, at the fact that her daughter was even considering those thoughts. Her breath caught in her throat as the gravity of her grief weighing her down felt as though it had just slapped her directly across the face, the blinding hurt rocketing from her head to her toes.

"Rachel, _no_."

"I have to go," Rachel stated abruptly, rising to her feet in a frantic haste.

"Wait, Rachel, please, let's just talk about this," Shelby begged. "What I said the other night was coming from a place of fear. I was wrong. I know I have things that I need to work out, and I will. I promise I will. But me wanting you, wanting this with you, that's separate from me losing Michael. It's… I've always wanted it. I've always needed you."

Rachel stopped mid-stride, hesitating on her way to the door. "You asked me to think about what I wanted," she said, her back still turned towards Shelby. "And I think I just need more time. I'm sorry about everything that you've been through, Shelby. It's horrible and I'm… I'm so sorry."

Before Shelby could think up a response, Rachel stormed out of the room, leaving her all alone with the agonizing confirmation of her biggest fears and insecurities that her mother had pointed out and that her husband had warned her of.

Paralyzed and unable to take another step to even follow her daughter, Shelby fell back down on the piano bench in pure defeat.

Was she too late to open herself up?


	7. Chapter 7

_Sunday — Part I _

**April: **_GOOD MORNING! _

**April: **_Hello!_

**April: **_Happy Sunday!_

**April: **_I'm sorry if you're still asleep but I need you to know that Hol and I went to see Funny Girl last night and Rachel was bananas!? She was fantastic! I lost my mind!_

**April: **_The whole show was amazing! _

**April: **_Shel!_

**April: **_What are you doing later? Wanna come to Sunday dinner? _

**April: **_Please! It'd make mom and dad's day. _

**April: **_And mine!_

Shelby sighed and dropped her gaze down to her cell phone to glance at the bevy of incoming messages on her screen. She released a prolonged sigh before typing up a response.

**Shelby: **_You know, most people usually say everything they need to say in one text. But, good morning A. I'm glad you liked the show. Rachel is incredible. _

Her fingers stopped of its own accord as she considered April's request for a few moments. Her inclination was to refuse. She preferred to say no. Her mind told her that she wasn't ready.

But those were the parts and pieces of her that's cost her everything that she's wanted recently. Those were the habits that had effectively pushed her daughter away.

She woke up this morning to the glaring truth of her inability to move on. To Rachel's words echoing in her ears. To the rather fresh and stinging memory of the woman, she very much still considered her child, walking away. From her.

And she got out of bed determining that she needed to change that.

She was not only going to move on. She was going to power forward.

For Rachel.

Even more, for herself.

**Shelby: **_Yes, I'd love to come to dinner. _

She lifted her eyes again to what was in front of her and forced herself to ignore the very painful pang in her chest.

**Shelby: **_Actually, can you come over soon? I need your help with something. _

She stared at the half of the closet that belonged to her husband, where all of his clothes still remained. Untouched. She tried to pack it up a few months ago. But she couldn't bring herself to actually even _touch _any of his belongings.

She couldn't move past the step she was currently at.

But perhaps her mistake before was thinking that she could do it alone.

**Shelby: **_I think I need you. _

* * *

"Oh!" Rachel and LeRoy both jumped back from the doorway to her bedroom, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Daddy, you scared me!" She said, exhaling deeply.

LeRoy assessed his daughter with a critical eye while she caught her breath. She was dressed for the day, and her hair was damp. Her dark brown eyes, so startlingly like his husband's, was misty and troubled. He frowned.

"Sorry, Princess. I was just checking to see if you were up."

Rachel gave a small nod as she stepped around her father. "Yeah," she said listlessly. "I've been awake for an hour or so. Couldn't sleep anymore. You and dad got up early too?"

LeRoy smiled at her sadly, knowing exactly why. It had been years, a long, long while, since he and his husband had spent a night holding their daughter in their arms while she cried herself to sleep. Sometimes to a fault, their Rachel always felt far too much.

"We thought we'd cook you breakfast before we head to the airport," he responded, extending his hand out to her. "Pancakes sound good?"

Rachel mustered a tiny smile at her favorite weekend tradition growing up. She hummed in approval at the thought of Sunday morning pancakes. Her dads always knew what she needed. "Sounds great," she said, taking LeRoy's hand readily and followed him over to the kitchen.

"Where's dad?" She asked as she settled down at the dining table.

"Getting some fruit at the farmer's market to go with our pancakes," he answered while he filled up a glass of water over the sink. "He should be back soon," he added as he placed it in front of his daughter before he sat down to join her.

Yes, they did know her ridiculously well. "Thanks, daddy."

"Honey," LeRoy began, thinking. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Because… honestly, your dad and I are so worried about you, Rach."

The young woman bowed her head, unable to take the sheer amount of concern in the man's eyes. "I'm fine," she said, clearing her throat and sitting up straight. "Please don't worry about me."

"Rach, I haven't seen you like that since… well, ever, Princess." LeRoy shook his head, undeterred by his daughter's near-perfect showface. "What happened with your… with Shelby yesterday? Honey, please tell me."

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. "I don't want to talk about it daddy. I'm fine, I promise."

LeRoy sighed. His daughter was never one to shut herself off from them. Or reject their help. And he was not going to allow her to start now. He reached out and stopped Rachel's hand from playing with the edge of her glass, pulling her fingers away from worrying the rim.

"In case you've forgotten, little girl, I raised you and I know _exactly _when you are and are not okay," he said sternly. "And I strongly suggest that you not lie to me because I'll tell you right now that your dad and I will refuse to leave until we know you're alright. Did Shelby tell you yesterday that she didn't want a relationship with you, Rach? Is that what happened?"

"No," Rachel was quick to respond, shaking her head in the negative. This one was on her. "She's not… she didn't…" she struggled to explain, pushing down the dangerous lump in her throat that told her that tears were soon likely to follow. She swallowed hard against the feeling and willed herself to focus. To take responsibility.

"I'm the one who told her that we shouldn't be in each other's lives right now."

LeRoy's heart sagged at the way Rachel's face crumbled after the disheartening admission. "Oh honey, you did? How come? I thought you said you wanted to get to know Shelby?"

"I did," Rachel nodded weakly. "I do," she corrected a bit more definitively. "I don't know, daddy. I'm just _so_ confused."

He took both of her hands in his, unsure of whether the gesture was more for him or his daughter and squeezed gently. "Tell me what you're thinking," he urged, deciding that she needed to take the lead on this.

"I'm not sure," Rachel muttered dejectedly. "I just… she didn't tell me. And then she never looked for me, daddy. She also said earlier this week that she doesn't think we should be in each other's lives. I… I'm not sure if I can help her. What if I'm not what she expects? You know, most people don't really like me at first. And she's going through a lot, I'm not sure it would be a good idea to add more to her plate. I don't want to make things worse for her."

The last part was said so quietly that LeRoy almost didn't catch it. She was talking to their hands, still clasped together. He sighed again and gave it another squeeze, staring at her and wishing that he could ruffle her hair like he'd done so often when she was little. The day after her thirteenth birthday, she expressly forbade it, complaining that it was messing up her _look_. Sometimes, though, his hand still twitched to rub her hair, often forgetting just how grown up she had become.

"I love you, kiddo," he said with the utmost sincerity. "I love you so much. And your dad and I are so _extremely _proud of you and the incredible woman that you've turned out to be, Rachel. We couldn't have asked for more."

"You are?" Rachel asked with a small smile, pulling her hand away to swipe at her eyes.

"We are," he stressed. "You are beautiful as you are kind, talented beyond belief, bright. I don't know anyone who works harder than you do, Rach. You're funny. You are _such_ a force, and I'm not sure if there's anything that can get between you and what you want," he chuckled. "You are so, so special, honey. You're everything your dad and I have always wanted. Everything we've ever needed. _Everything _and more," he said convincingly, his own eyes twinkling with tears. "I've no doubt in the world that Shelby will feel the same way once she gets to know you. She already loves you so much kid—that much I'm certain of."

"Daddy," Rachel whispered, her voice shaky.

"But you know what, Rach?" He leaned over to brush the tears away then moved to rub her hair affectionately. "It's not even the fact that you were valedictorian or that you got yourself into NYADA or that you're on _Broadway_ that makes us the most proud. It's your heart, princess. It's the way you can open it up to anyone and your capacity for love that never fails to astound us. It's your ability to empathize and care about others that we love the most about you."

He paused and tipped his head to the ceiling to gather control over his emotions. "And do you wanna know who you got that from, Rach?"

There was a short pause and for a brief moment LeRoy was transported more than twenty years to the past, sitting across the table from a young Shelby who gave him the most reassuring smile before she signed the papers that would change the course of his life forever.

"Your mom, kiddo," he said fondly, blinking through the memory. "We might have raised you Rach, but, without a doubt, your kindness and your thoughtfulness, the _good_ that's in that giant heart of yours—I've always _believed_ is from _your mother_."

"It is?" Rachel choked out, willing herself not to succumb to the tears.

LeRoy gave a firm nod. "I understand where you're coming from, Rach. I get why you may feel that way. And if you really aren't ready for all of this, honey, then that is perfectly fine too. Your dad and I are never going to push you on this. It's entirely up to you. But, let me try to answer some of your questions now," he said softly, reaching out to lift her chin up in order to capture her watery eyes.

"Shelby signed a contract that _we _asked her to. She agreed to it _for us_. And she stayed away _for you_. And I-I don't know," he stopped when his voice cracked. "Looking back on it Rach, I don't know if that was the right thing to do… or if it was… fair," he said, for the very first time in two decades, aloud. He let out a long breath to settle himself. "I'm not sure. Maybe if I could go back, I would do it differently so that your dad and I could give you everything you need."

Rachel shook her head vehemently in opposition, the tears flinging everywhere. "No," she sniffled hard. "You and dad were _perfect. _You gave me _everything," _she said seriously, believing it entirely. There was no dearth of love in their home and in her childhood, and she knew that. Her fathers never gave her anything less than a profound sense of safety and security growing up. That never had anything to do with her desire to know her mother.

"Only because of Shelby," LeRoy credited, swallowing with difficulty. "We were only able to do that for you because she gave you us and trusted us. So if you're going to be angry about that, Rach, you should at least direct some of it towards me and your dad. We were scared back then, but I'd be remiss if I didn't take responsibility for the fact that it was our idea to keep the two of you apart."

LeRoy held his hand up when he saw Rachel begin to interrupt. "And if you think that you don't have anything to offer her, then that's where you're wrong too, kiddo. And I am not saying at all that it's up to you to come in and do everything and be everything for your mother all at once and all of a sudden. She doesn't need you to. I don't think she's asking you to either. And she's far stronger than you and I know. I'm just saying… that maybe it's up to me and your dad, and maybe up to you, if you're ready, to start to give her back everything she's given us and our family. Shelby was there for us during one of the worst times in our lives," he recalled, doing his best to push down the excruciating memories of their failed attempts at becoming fathers back then.

"I think it's incumbent upon us to be there for her now. And I really feel like it's our turn to help her. What do you think?"

At the question, Rachel's resolve crumbled completely and she was crying in earnest now, no longer bothering to hide her tears. She considered the clarity and perspective offered for a few moments before settling on nodding her long-awaited agreement.

She only hoped that she wasn't too late to make it right.

* * *

April hummed in approval as soon as she stepped into the kitchen when the warm, buttery, and sweet smell in the air infiltrated her senses.

"Are you cooking pancakes?"

"Blueberry ones," Shelby replied with a small smile, tossing one up in the air towards Bug who caught it perfectly in his mouth a beat later.

"Okay now _that_ was impressive," April remarked.

Shelby's smile expanded when the German Shepherd trotted over to her sister-in-law to greet her. He seemed happy enough for the company, so at least they seemed to be making slight progress in that regard.

"Want some?" Shelby asked from her position at the stove, returning to the task in front of her.

Cooking Sunday brunch together was a tradition for her and her husband. One she hasn't done since after it all, but it was something she decided earlier she wanted to get back to. Yes, she couldn't do it with Michael anymore, but that also didn't mean that she couldn't invite her family or her friends over to join her or simply just to do it for herself.

"Yes _please_," April replied, rubbing her hands together while she watched Shelby plate a short stack of hot blueberry-flecked pancakes. "Thanks! You should have told me you were cooking breakfast, I would've brought pastries or something."

Shelby shrugged, not thinking too much of it. "No worries. You can bring some next weekend," she said, missing entirely how April's face twisted into shock for a fleeting second.

"I'd love to," the blonde replied happily, accepting the plate and utensils offered to her. "Did you eat already?"

Shelby nodded as she turned the stove off and began to clean up the space. "Yeah I had a couple while I was cooking. I'll have some more later. Coffee?"

"Sure," April said, groaning after she took a generous bite. "This is amazing. The blueberries are so fresh."

"Good, I'm glad. And thanks for coming over," she added.

She had forgotten how much being around her sister put her at ease.

April shook her head, swallowing before she replied. "Literally anytime, Shel. I'm happy you asked. I haven't been over in forever."

"I know," Shelby acknowledged with a sense of guilt. She paused what she was doing and looked at the other woman with a serious expression, gathering herself momentarily before leaning into this conversation. "And I'm… I am so sorry about that, A. Really. I never meant to shut you out or make you feel like you weren't welcome here because this will also always be your home too. I've just been in the dark, you know? I've lost sight of what I still have. And I've been refusing to move on and failing to just…"

"Do the next right thing?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a sad smile. "But I want to try. I promise that I do, I... I talked to Rachel yesterday and she told me that she wasn't sure if she wanted a relationship with me because she thinks that she won't be able to help pull me out of this. She thinks that we probably shouldn't be in each other's lives right now."

"Oh, Shel," April sympathized, frozen in surprise with her next bite of pancake hovering halfway between her mouth and the table, forgotten. "She said that?"

"Yes," Shelby nodded with a heavy expression. "And I'm frustrated because I never even had that expectation of her. It's not her place or her responsibility to put me back together, but I guess she took one look at me and decided that I was too much or not in the right place in my life right now for us to try. I don't know."

"Shelby, she doesn't know you."

"No," Shelby agreed, releasing a gloomy sigh. "But all of my hesitation and uncertainty this week isn't necessarily the best first impression anyway. And I was the one who brought up not being on solid footing right now in the first place, so that's my fault. I don't know. I should've been decisive. Rachel deserves more than what she got from me over the past few days. I'm her mom. I should've stepped it up."

"But _you are_ going through a lot Shel," April argued, setting her fork down to provide the conversation all of her attention. "You can't just ignore that. And you're only human, you're figuring it out. I don't know what I would do if the child I had twenty years ago just popped up in my life all of a sudden, especially in the middle of all of this. This is your reality and life isn't always pretty. Rachel must understand that."

"I know. And I don't know that she doesn't, but this is the one thing that shouldn't be about me. This is Rachel and it's her life. It's what she thinks she needs. As much as it hurts me," she admitted, her voice trembling. "It is completely her decision. That much I am willing to accept. I don't want to push her. I won't if this is what she wants."

"But you're going to try again in the future, right?" April asked hopefully.

"I am," Shelby said, putting forth the effort to sound somewhat convincing. "I want to."

Though, whatever the future held was an entirely different story. And truthfully, as much as she would have loved a different outcome, she realized that this was a wake up call that she desperately needed. The thought of ruining a relationship with her daughter forever gave her the drive she was lacking before to keep moving forward. To go beyond a life after Michael.

"I will," she decided, manifesting out into the universe. She just had to break it down to this next step and focus on what was ahead of her. Make a choice to do the next right thing like her sister suggested, and hopefully everything else will fall back into place again. Hopefully, eventually, Rachel would be a part of what was next for her.

"And I'll help you," April promised wholeheartedly. "We'll help each other."

* * *

April studied her sister-in-law carefully who stood in the middle of the expansive master suite with a faraway look on her face.

She glanced around the space to search for any more of her brother's belongings they might have forgotten to pack up during the last couple of hours, double-checking the end table on his side of the bed in case she missed a book or two.

"Should we do his office next?"

Shelby gave a frown, shrugging a shoulder. "I guess so."

April hesitated to reply when the woman began crossing the room a second later to enter the walk-in closet again.

A sudden memory flashed through her mind from the morning after the funeral, the exact moment she found Shelby collapsed on the floor of the bedroom they were currently in, sobbing and inconsolable - the first time she had truly cried since they left the hospital a week prior.

She had no idea back then how either of them were going to overcome this.

"Shel? Do you need help?"

"Sorry, give me a sec!" Her voice was muffled.

April shuffled on her feet, forcing herself to remain planted. Her sight landed on the boxes and bags filled with all of Michael's personal effects. It was essentially her big brother's entire life. And it was all packed up neatly and prepared to be donated.

She lifted a hand to swipe at her eyes and blinked several times to clear the mist from her view as soon as she heard Shelby moving again.

"Found it."

"Found what?" April asked, clearing her throat.

Shelby set what seemed to be a package wrapped in plastic down on the bed and opened it up, pulling an assortment of items out of the bag.

"What is all of this?"

"The bag that the hospital gave me of Michael's stuff, I only grabbed his wallet out of it but I haven't touched anything else. I completely forgot about it actually. I've been looking for this," Shelby said more to herself, unfolding a familiar old green flannel shirt.

April grinned when Shelby handed it to her. It was his favorite. She gifted it to her brother more than a few Christmases ago because she fleetingly thought it would bring out his hazel eyes. She didn't anticipate it becoming such a regular part of his wardrobe. It had a well-worn softness to it and the scent of Michael that remained secured within its fibers.

The thought that it was the last thing he wore increased the flow of tears from her eyes and before realizing it, she was drawn immediately into her sister's arms.

"I think you should keep it," Shelby whispered, tightening her hold.

April nodded, unable to control the deluge of tears. "Thank you," she said, laughing at her own reaction. "I'm so sorry I'm crying like a baby now. We were doing so well."

"I know," Shelby chuckled, squeezing even harder. "It's okay. I've got you too, sis."

April sniffled hard, her sadness waning in their embrace. "I love you," she said sincerely, pulling back as soon as she felt something crumple in between them. She held up the shirt in the air then patted down the chest pocket and reached in.

"What is it?" Shelby asked curiously, watching something akin to confusion flit across the woman's face.

"It's Rachel," April said quietly, reading and re-reading the only thing scribbled down.

"What?"

"Rachel," April repeated, showing her the folded piece of notebook paper. "It has her name on it. Michael knew."

Shelby plucked it out of April's hands and looked over the unmistakable handwriting that belonged to her husband.

"_Rachel Berry_? He knew her name?"

"Maybe he only found out that day," April quickly pointed out. "That's from his pocket planner. And it has the date on it. He was on his way to meet you for dinner, right?"

Shelby plopped down at the edge of her bed, winded. Yes, Michael was on his way to dinner to meet her when a drunk driver ran a red light and collided right into him. The driver survived but her husband succumbed to his severe crush injuries a few hours later that evening. It was right before midnight when her entire life changed forever.

"Yeah… he was on his way to the restaurant and he was…" her voice trailed off, collecting the memories. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, ignoring the slew of notifications on her screen and clicked through until Michael's voice filled the silence.

"_Hey babe, just tried calling but I think you might still be in rehearsal or about to leave. I'm running late 'cause I wanted to stop by home to change, but I'll be there soon. I can't wait to see you. I have some news, and I'm really excited about what it could mean for us and our family. It's good. Really good. Anyway, I'll tell you more about it later. Love you!"_

"He left me that voicemail when I missed his call that night, and I…" she inhaled deeply to keep her heart rate steady. "I must've listened to this a hundred times already, but I didn't think anything of it because we were literally just talking about adopting another dog from the shelter a couple days before everything and he said he was going to look into it, and I thought he heard back. I always… this entire time… I always thought that's what he meant by that."

April sat down on the bed and took Shelby's hand in hers. "So he was going to tell you."

Shelby turned her head, her answering smile quivery.

"He was. He found her. For me."


	8. Chapter 8

_Sunday — Part II_

"Okay, so I'll see you at dinner later?"

Shelby smirked at the suspicious tone. "Yes," she reassured, handing the woman her coat. "I'm just going to finish sorting out a few more things and getting my room prepped for my new bed to arrive tomorrow. And _then, _I'll get ready to meet you in Greenwich for dinner. I promise."

"Okay," April continued, still doubtful. "Do you want me to send someone to pick you up? I know it's pretty far from here."

"A, I'll be there," Shelby laughed, pushing her through the foyer. "I swear. I'll even bring Bug. He likes long drives and he can run around the backyard. It'll be good for the both of us."

April finally seemed to accept this and nodded. "I think so too. Also, I texted mom that you're coming earlier and she's really excited about it. She's cooking all your favorites."

Shelby gave her a genuine smile. "I'm excited too. And…" she paused, measuring her words carefully at her desire to express this. "Thank you for coming over and for helping me with everything. I truly don't know what I would do without you, April. Clearly, I'm worse off when that's the case."

In a blink, April flung her entire body towards her and wrapped her up in a massive embrace. "Thank _you_ for letting me back in," she replied, her voice thick with emotions. "I love you so much, Shel. And you'll always have me. I know we'll be okay."

"We'll be okay," Shelby echoed with a gentle squeeze.

For the first time in a long time, she honestly believed it too. Not that she was okay all of a sudden or that it was all okay now. But that, eventually, it would be. Or, at the very least, she was more determined than ever before to begin to redefine exactly what her new version of _okay_ was moving forward.

"Alright, get outta here," Shelby laughed again when she saw April hesitate at the door. "I'm going to see you in a few hours again, weirdo."

"Okay, okay," April relented, wrapping her coat around her tiny frame. "See you soon."

She gave Shelby another quick hug then moved to let herself out, giving a slight chuckle when she saw who was coming up the stoop. "Looks like you have more company. Don't be late for dinner!"

Shelby glanced over her shoulders in confusion.

"Hey handsome," April greeted Jesse who was coming up the stairs with Giselle right behind him. "Saw the show last night and you _killed _it," she high fived him perfectly as they passed one another. "I'm definitely seeing it _at least_ twenty more times. I'll text you about it later. Hey Giselle, how's it going?"

"Please do," Jesse laughed. "See ya, April."

"Hi, I'm great thanks!" Giselle replied politely, shuffling to the side to let the woman through. "Have a good day!"

"You too. Great seeing you both. See you later, Shel!" April called out with a wave as soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Hi? What are you guys doing here?" Shelby asked curiously when the two approached the doorway.

Giselle lifted her arm up to display a binder. "I was just walking over to drop this off and ran into Jesse. I actually have a lot of homework to get back to, but I didn't want to forget to give this back."

"Thanks Giselle," Shelby said, accepting the binder full of sheet music. "How did the recording go the other night?"

"Great!" She beamed. "I just submitted it. If you want, I can email you the clip and then maybe you can give me some feedback in case I get asked for a call back?"

"_When_ you get a call back," Shelby corrected with certainty. "Of course, you can send it to me. And I'll let you know what I think when I see you at school next week."

"What?" Giselle remarked in total surprise. "You're coming back to work?! That's amazing! When?"

The amount of unbridled enthusiasm she received from the student reassured Shelby instantly that she had made the right call. "Just to help with the senior showcase," she shared. "I won't be back officially, but I'm going to try to come in a couple days a week through the end of the year to direct rehearsals."

She had discussed the idea with April earlier and found that out of everything she needed to work through, going back to school was the easiest decision for her to make. She sincerely loved her job. She inherently believed that it was her calling. And above all else, she cared a tremendous deal for her students like Giselle. Though she wasn't prepared to dive back into the daily demands and pressures of her role, she decided she was going to try to do what she felt like she could handle and take it from there. She hasn't missed an end of year recital from their graduating students in more than a dozen years, and she figured that would be a good place to start.

"That's so great! Everyone's going to be so happy to hear that Principal C."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it too," Shelby told her honestly. "Now go finish your homework. We can talk more about next steps on your NYADA audition at school."

"Yes ma'am," Giselle fake saluted at the instructions. "See you around, Jesse! Can't wait to see _Funny Girl _next weekend."

"Bye Giselle, see you at the show," he finally spoke up and waved her off.

Shelby shifted her attention to him a moment later, her smile faltering at the contrite expression planted firmly across his face.

"Hey Jesse, what's going on? I wasn't expecting you," she moved to allow him inside.

"I know, sorry," he apologized with a heavy shrug. "I tried texting you as a heads up but I won't stay long. I just wanted to stop by."

"You're always welcome to," Shelby replied, rubbing his jacket-cladded arm out of instinct to help ease him. "Sorry I missed your texts. Everything okay?"

When Jesse hesitated to answer, Shelby took his hand and pulled him into the living room. She had been thinking about their conversation the previous afternoon and had come to the conclusion that there was something else he wanted to say at the end but didn't. Understanding that she and Jesse were more alike than just their shared interests, she knew that all she needed to do was be patient and attempt to coax it out of him.

"What time do you have to be in at work this afternoon?"

"Not for a couple more hours," he answered, settling on the couch with a troubled sigh. "Sorry, were you busy?"

"Stop apologizing," Shelby replied in a chiding tone. "I'm never too busy for you. You know that."

Jesse smiled and nodded. He did. He threw a tentative glance over to the piano in the corner. It was where he first learned how to play. Somehow, though not surprisingly, over time, Shelby and Michael's place had become his home, if not more, than the house he grew up in.

"Did you have a good opening week, Jess?"

"Amazing. It was better than anything I ever expected," he answered that easily. "I feel exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. There's still so much we have to work out with the show, but it's been a dream come true."

Shelby wholeheartedly share in his glee at that. "I'm so happy for you."

"I told you it's because of you."

"You're the one with the talent," she credited without skipping a beat. "All I did was point you in the right direction, kid."

Jesse laughed at the rebuff, shaking his head. They could probably point fingers about this forever.

"Can I talk to you about something? And I'm sorry if it's not my place or anything like that."

Shelby nodded her agreement, relieved that he brought it up himself and stayed silent.

"Rachel said something to me the other day that I can't stop thinking about," he began, not missing how Shelby wrapped her arms around herself protectively at the mention of her name. "It was about your conversation from the other night outside the theater. She said that you talked to her about how you don't think that you're ready to be in her life because you said you don't know anything about being a parent."

"Jesse."

"Wait, I'm sorry, I know," he interrupted swiftly. "We don't have to talk about what's going on with you and Rachel. I understand that that's between the two of you. I just… I really feel like I wanted to… or that I _should_ tell you that you've given me credit my entire life, Coach C. You give everyone credit and you hype everyone up. It's your MO. That's why Giselle and everyone else at MPA loves you so much. But… I think you do a historically terrible job of giving yourself any credit," he said the last part quickly, steeling himself at the raised eyebrow being directed his way. "That's why I don't think it's fair for you to say that you don't know anything about being a parent when you've been one to me for so long now. Maybe you don't consider yourself one to me, but I do think of you as one of my moms."

"Oh, Jess…"

He gave her a half smile, encouraged by the way the woman's sharp features seemed to have softened. "You _and _Michael always treated me like I was your own. Neither of you had to. I don't know if that was on accident or intentional, but ever since high school, I've always felt like I had three parents. You looked out for me and you had my back. You made me believe like I could have and do everything I wanted. And I don't know, I'm not sure cause I'm not one yet, and there are obviously a lot of different ways to be a good parent… _but_ if there was any type of model or prototype that should exist, I'd go to bat every single time to say that it'd be you. I know Rachel might not see that right now, but she will. That's all."

Jesse lost his own cool at the instant tears that followed. For he's never seen Shelby Corcoran cry before. "Woah, Coach C, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Shelby lifted a hand to forestall his apologies and brought him in for a crushing hug. "You don't know how much that means to me, kid," she said with deep, deep gratitude. "I love you and I'm here for you. That will never change. Thank you for saying all of that."

"No, _thank you_," he said, his voice especially tight when Shelby kissed the side of his head. He rubbed his eyes quickly as soon as she pulled away, chuckling in embarrassment. "Sorry. But can I also show you something else?" He wanted to share before the moment, and his bravery, escaped them. "It's a song I composed. I've been working on it for months, honestly. And I… I wrote it for Michael. Would you like to hear it?"

Shelby followed his sight to her favorite fixture in the living room. The most physical reminder of another part of her that she's neglected the past year, and promptly decided to make another choice, to take another step.

"That's beautiful, Jess," she replied without even the slightest bit of hesitation. "I would love to hear it, _but_ only if you teach me how to play it afterwards."

* * *

"Did you get lost again?" Charlie Corcoran gently ribbed while he crossed the den that also served as his home office. He walked over to join his daughter in law standing in front of the fireplace.

When his son first took the young woman home to meet them, they had to start their traditional Sunday dinner almost a half hour late because she had gotten lost in their sprawling estate on the way to the bathroom. Or, distracted, Shelby explained to the family during their first meal together, saying she had never been in anybody's home with so many different rooms to explore before. She was enthralled but at the same time unfazed, he noted back then. He had grown to know her as someone who was always aware, but, more so, always grounded.

"No," Shelby gave a laughing smile at the reminder. "I wandered in here because I've just never noticed these in here before," she gestured to the row of framed photographs placed across the mantle. A few of them of her and her husband. One she was particularly surprised at. "Now I know where Michael got it from."

"You're family, of course you'd be up there," Charlie stated without any thought. "These are some of mine and Meredith's favorites. It helps remind me what I do it all for."

"That's what Michael always said," Shelby said fondly.

She picked up the one where she was sandwiched in between Charlie and Meredith at her 40th birthday a couple years ago. Michael was out of town on business, so he couldn't celebrate. But his parents, unprompted, threw her a lovely surprise birthday party to help ring in the milestone. She was slow to realize or understand why, but really, they had and were always there for her independent of her relationship with their son.

"Thank you for dinner," she said, looking up when she set the frame back to where it belonged. "I had a great time. I've missed this."

Charlie nodded in agreement, wrapping a strong arm around the woman's shoulders as he led them out of the room.

"We've missed you, Shel. Mer and I… we've been trying to give you space, but, sweetheart, if you ever need anything, we're here for you too. You are a part of this family. Forever. You are my daughter as much as April is. Losing Mike doesn't change that. Okay?"

"Okay," Shelby said simply when he pulled her in for a full hug. She had no idea how much she desperately needed and wanted to hear that, finally recognizing that she was looking for support in all the wrong places. "Thanks, dad."

"Nothing to thank me for," Charlie insisted. He handed her his handkerchief and granted her a few seconds to collect herself. Once all traces of tears vanished, he gave her a reassuring smile. "And forgive me if it feels like I'm prying, but before you leave, I would really love to hear about your daughter, who, from what I understand, recently just came into your life again?"

Shelby sniffled hard a bit unseemly and blushed in response. "Sorry. April told you? And you do?"

"You know better than to tell your sister if you want anything kept a secret," Charlie joked but then grew serious. "And of course we do. If she's _your_ daughter, Shelby, then that means she's _our_ family too."

Even without any context, there was no hint of disappointment or judgment in his tone. Only firm acceptance. And Shelby suddenly found herself walking from one corner, where she felt like she was standing all alone, directly across to the other, where there was an unending amount of love, guidance, and support already waiting for her there.

* * *

Shelby heaved a tired sigh later that evening before making her way down the stairs for the third time when she heard her dog continue his barking at the living room window.

"Bug, what's up?" She asked when she went over to break his attention. "What are you barking at?" She glanced outside again to search for a wandering squirrel or another dog out on a walk. "It's almost midnight, bud. You can't be waking up the neighbors."

Bug seemed to stare at her intently and then tilted his head to the window and barked again.

"Do you want to go on another walk? Or go outside?"

He barked and then trotted over toward the garage door where they kept his leash.

Fighting through a large yawn, Shelby relented and went over to join him. Clearly, there was something of importance outside for her pet. For the sake of peace, she decided to indulge him.

"You get five minutes," she instructed while she clipped it on. "And then we're going to bed. We have a long week ahead of us."

On her drive home from her in-law's earlier, she had strung together an exhaustive to-do list of tasks she needed to get in order, people she wanted to catch up with, and also things for fun she was determined to get back to. She worked out a schedule with her assistant at school for her gradual return. She continued organizing Michael's belongings that needed to be donated when she got back home. It was mostly all low-hanging fruit that she could easily grab for now. She would focus on making the small choices and taking the small steps, and deal with the rest as they came. Though her ultimate goal would remain consistent: pushing forward and building a new life that Rachel would hopefully want to be a part of one day.

As soon as she opened the door, Bug sprinted into the garage and pulled Shelby with a force that almost knocked her off her feet. "Bug!" She began to scold but stopped when she realized that she had accidentally forgotten that she left the garage open when she was in here packing up the rest of Michael's things.

"Oh, is this what you were trying to tell me?"

Bug barked again and pulled even harder, leading them through the side alley and out onto the sidewalk.

"What is going on with you?" She asked in sincere confusion over his behavior. She paused to catch her breath then looked around for the source of his distraction.

He sniffed the ground for a few moments and then barked yet another time before racing down the sidewalk as far as the leash could go. At about twelve feet when he reached the end of the block, the cord stopped and pulled him up short. He turned around to look at Shelby questioningly. His mouth was opened in what appeared to be a smile.

Still winded, Shelby half-jogged to meet him. "Bug, what is it?"

Another bark and he cocked his head a few yards away, and Shelby stopped short immediately.

"Rachel?"

She blinked her bleary-eyes to zero in on a shadow who very much turned into her daughter pacing distractedly up and down the sidewalk.

She tried again, realizing that she didn't hear her. "Rachel? What are you doing here?"

The young woman balked at her call and whipped around to face her, her brown eyes wide and scared and focused directly on her. Shelby was also petrified, at a loss of what to do. Or say. She certainly wasn't expecting this when she followed her dog outside.

Shelby watched her mouth move as though she was trying to find words but none were forming.

Then Bug barked again, effectively breaking the building silence and the growing moment of panic between the two of them.

"How long have you been out here? Are you… did you come to see me?"

"Yes," Rachel said finally, her voice clear but not strong. "I've been walking around here for like thirty minutes trying to talk myself into knocking on your door. And I don't know… I… Jesse gave me your address," she explained, heat flushing on her cheeks at how odd it all sounded. "I wanted to come talk to you, but then I realized it was too late and thought you might be sleeping already. But then I wasn't sure because I had already come all the way out here. I don't know. I'm so sorry. How did you know I was out here? Did you see me? Did I wake you up?"

Shelby paused to register everything the girl had just shared in the most rapid manner. "No, Bug did," she answered, putting the pieces together, chuckling now in realization. "He used to watch for me to come home at the window and Michael said he would bark every time he saw someone who… looked like me pass by."

"Oh," Rachel said shyly, smiling down at the German Shepherd obviously sizing her up. "That makes sense. Sorry. Is it okay if I… can I pet him?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Shelby permitted, her heart filling at the easygoing and natural interaction between the two when Rachel crouched down to meet him. "His name's Bug."

"He's so handsome," Rachel said, rubbing him affectionately. "Do you only have him?"

"For now," Shelby replied contemplatively. "I decided recently that I think I may want to adopt another dog soon. Bug's been having a tough go of it recently, but I thought maybe getting him a friend and adding to our family would help us both. I've always wanted another one too."

"That sounds like a great idea," Rachel agreed. "I wanted to get a dog so badly here but with my schedule and everything, I didn't think that now's the right time."

Shelby nodded in understanding. "Sure, makes sense. Well, you are always more than welcome to come hang out with Bug. He seems to like you," she said, peering down at him still posted up under Rachel's hands.

"I like him too," Rachel laughed when he licked her cheek. She played with him for a minute more, gathering her courage, grateful that Shelby seemed to be allowing the distraction. When she stood up, she swallowed hard at the sight of her mother staring at her without a trace of anger or disappointment even after everything she said and how she acted.

"I'm sorry I walked away yesterday," she said faintly but sincerely.

"I'm sorry that I walked away from you the other night," Shelby countered. "This has been very confusing for the both of us, huh?"

"Only just a little bit," Rachel gave an agreeing laugh. "A lot actually," she corrected, clearing her throat.

"I know, honey," Shelby responded sadly. For if there was one thing that she could wish for, it would be that this would be easy, for this to hurt less. Especially for her daughter. "I'm so sorry about that."

"You don't really have anything you should be sorry for," Rachel said, reminding herself of everything her fathers have told her, of what she's come to realize to make this decision. "I talked to dad and daddy, and I understand now."

Shelby hesitated to respond, not entirely sure exactly what the girl meant by that.

"I love you too," Rachel said unexpectedly but definitively. "You've been saying that to me all week, and I… I want you to know that I love you too. I do."

"Oh, Rach," Shelby opened up her arms when her daughter closed the distance between them. "Baby, I love you _so much_."

"I know," she cried openly now. "Can we please just try again? Or start all over? I don't know if I'm going to be good at this because I've never had a mom either, but I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be without you anymore. I've wanted to know you my whole life, and I know everything is so hard right now, but I think I need you too. Will you give me another chance even if I'm really bad at all of this? That's what I want. That's what I decided."

Shelby pulled her neck back to face her, cupping her cheeks to make eye contact. "All I need you to do is be yourself Rachel. That's all. Just be you, my sweet and lovely girl. That's all I want," she brushed her tears away. "It's all I've ever wanted. We don't have to figure everything else out right now. We don't have to be perfect. We just both have to agree to try and just put one foot in front of the other. Can we do that? Can we try together?"

Rachel only threw herself further into her mother's arms again, nodding over and over again.

Shelby was more than content for the hug, but frowned when she made contact with Rachel's skin again. "Hey, sweetheart, I promise, it'll be okay. _We _will be okay. I'll make sure of it," she reiterated. "But you're freezing, so would you like to go home or come inside with me?"

Rachel was taken aback by the choice, glad for it, but this was one she didn't have to think about. After everything this past week, she couldn't bear the thought of walking away from her mother again. Not anymore. Instead, she was going to take a step forward.

"Can I come with you? And Bug?"

"Of course, you can," Shelby replied, more relieved than she anticipated for the positive answer. "Always."

With an arm around her shoulders, she ushered them back to the house, making sure to go back through the garage. She unclipped Bug off his leash as soon as they got inside the space and he ran to the door, barking at the two of them to join him.

"Sorry, it's chaotic here, I've been organizing some things. I'm getting new furniture tomorrow," Shelby explained the controlled mess in the storage area. "I was sorting this out before bed earlier and I..." she stopped when she saw Rachel frozen over by the work table, something in her hand. "What is it, Rach?"

"What is this?" Rachel turned around, lifting up a small black frame, one that contained a slightly crumpled-up piece of paper that had her name written on it, which involuntarily caused Shelby's lips to form into a smile.

She had just finished framing it earlier, adopting yet another one of her husband's habits. She was going to place it above her new bed. As a constant daily and physical reminder to herself for what, _who,_ she was doing it all for.

"Oh that's... _from Michael,_" she said with a profound sense of love and appreciation for her husband for giving her everything, for bringing them together. "How about you come in and I can tell you the story?" Shelby asked with a full heart, opening up the door willingly, and letting her daughter inside.

* * *

_**The end. **_

* * *

**A/N: **_Thank you everyone for joining me for this! I know it was a difficult read at times, but I wanted to write a story about the importance of powering forward, opening ourselves up, and drawing strength from those we love in times of hardship, and I hope that's where we've landed here. Anyway, I also decided that I want to revisit this AU in the future and drop off an epilogue of some sort to check in on how S and R are faring (because I'm attached lol), so make sure to hit follow on this if you're interested in coming back! But, for now, I am going to leave it here. Thank you for sharing all of your thoughts with me on this. I loved them all! See you for a long-awaited EC update for those following along!_


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